This morning (with it’s unseasonal warmth) prompted the opening of the first daffodil in our garden – one of those cheap jobs from a bargain bag of 50 purchased at a well known supermarket and which resulted in the scowls of the checkout person left dealing with the papery detritus that falls from such a netted bag. The single species narcissi that I researched, pined and deliberated over have shown extreme tardiness in comparison and are only just forcing their way out of the ground. In the current issue of Gardens Illustrated there’s a nice piece at the back of the magazine in which Frank Ronan deliberates over how gardeners plant bulbs:
“As the patterns of autumn bulb planting emerge in our still sparse borders they bring on bouts of neurotic self-criticism. What on earth were we thinking? We were probably thinking of escaping the thickening rain before the onset of pneumonia and more than likely we were panicking because the previous three delves of the trowel had sliced through bulbs planted not ten minutes before, and we possibly had just realised that there was one bag of tulips too many because we had been keen to get over the threshold for free postage.”
All of which is familiar. So . . . this blog may turn into Bulb Watch (like Spring Watch and Autumn Watch) over the next few weeks. I can see you are all gripped with the prospect already.