Stirrings Mid-March

Consider what each soil will bear and what each refuses.
Virgil

Over a weekend two things have happened that have stirred me from my lethargy and encouraged me to go back in the garden. Some friends in our village in Dorset brought us a big clump of snowdrops dug up straight from their garden. And then we had two days of continuous, warm sunshine.

The garden is still a building site and I struggle over piles of scaffolding to get to the part of the garden that I call flower beds. While the builders have been digging trenches for drains, it has become evident that our garden is on greensand. Since we are surrounded by chalk downs, I had assumed that the soil would be chalky and alkaline; in fact, it is just about neutral. There are shell fossils among the rocks, bearing testament to the fact that this is a soil derived from marine sediment. It is naturally friable and rich in potash. I may have to consider different plants from the ones I had envisaged, but when I go to Google, I only find references to ways to improve the soil by adding potash – I'll do better to ask my knowledgeable friends what they would recommend for planting in this soil.

While I have been absent, the garden has been sleeping and then waking up. Although I have been frustrated by the delay in redesigning the plot, the work done over last year to clear weeds and unwanted plants has paid off and those plants remaining have had a chance to acclimatise. Skeleton heads of last year's flowers of Hydrangea petiolaris still cling to the branches that are now putting out fresh leaves. Lots of signs of pale pink Japanese anemone plants have emerged from under stone slabs, the creeping dead-nettle has taken over the whole space under the Viburnum plicatum, Euphorbia has sprung up, and of course forget-me-nots have seeded themselves in damp, shady patches of soil. I set aside spare Japanese anemones and dead nettle to go into pots to be sold in the village plant fair.

I don't think that we have lost many plants apart from some hellebores. I see them flourishing in nearby gardens, so I suspect that they just got too wet, rather than not liking it here. Of the two camellias in pots, one has a solitary bud forming and the other is covered in buds. I don't know why this should be, but barring a sharp frost or some strong winds, I shall still have plenty to float in bowls for the house in the coming weeks.