Winter greens
Emerging heartleaf skullcap foliage
It’s February, and I haven’t cut back last summer’s foliage yet. I’m feeling antsy about it.
Like many gardeners who want something to look at in the winter (and provide shelter and food for birds), I leave frost-bitten foliage alone for several months. In fact, my rule of thumb is to wait to cut back lantana, salvias, and zexmenia until mid-February ; by then, odds are that my central Austin garden will see only one or two more light frosts.
This year, however, the lush, still-green growth on some of my perennials (salvia, Mexican oregano, artemesia) is obstructing the emerging daffodils and budding irises. I want that cleaned-up, freshly mulched, ready-for-spring look now . As soon as I cut back everything, I can bring in a load of compost and mulch, a task that I’ve neglected for a while.
Emerging spiderwort ( Tradescantia occidentalis) foliage
Not only that, I need to get out there and paint a section of my fence, move a few plants around, divide others . . . . In short, I’m feeling the need to garden again, after a short period of dormancy brought on by a spate of cold, rainy weather, Christmas vacation, and winter sluggishness. When I look out the window right now, I see a lot of emerging spring growth, as well as last-year’s greenery that needs a hard pruning, and soon. Spring is nigh down Texas way.
Budding iris
I expect little sympathy from more-northern gardeners, who are staring out their windows at snow instead of green plants, dreaming over catalogs and potting up seedlings. Meanwhile, I’m feeling anxious to get busy out there. Spring is coming, and the garden and I aren’t ready. Why am I still sitting here at the computer?!
I did get outside this morning to prune a few ice-damaged branches on the Southern wax myrtles. The garden is quiet, but changes are happening, from the emerging foliage of early-spring bloomers (pictured above) to iris buds here and there to winter-blooming vines like Carolina jessamine and coral honeysuckle. Here are a few photos.
Coral honeysuckle blooming along the fence
Purple trailing lantana is still going strong, even after the ice storm.
Carolina jessamine’s buds are lined up like buttons on a coat.
On warmer days, its sweet fragrance wafts across the garden.
‘Blue elf’ aloe (for Christopher)—no flower stalks yet
I am kinda surprised you Austin gardeners didn’t have more damage. It must not have gotten much below the upper 20’s in temps and the ice layer keeps plants at 32 degrees. Ice is used in orange groves as a protective layer in hard freezes.
This aloe exchange got me curious as to who my yellow flowered Aloe really is. There are 22 pages of Aloes at Dave’s Garden Plant Files. I still don’t know for sure.
During the ice days, I doubt it got below 29 degrees in my garden, and all the rain beforehand provided a nice long drink before the cold hit. The ice looked bad, but it didn’t really harm anything beyond a few broken limbs on the wax myrtles. Had it been windy during the ice storm, it might be another matter.
My aloe was labeled at the nursery; otherwise, I wouldn’t have a clue as to the variety. Good old Barton Springs Nursery—great labeling. —Pam
I do appreciate the fresh view of green, and of flowers.
Miles to go before our spring, but any spring anywhere gladens the heart!
I’m glad to hear it. I’ll look forward to enjoying your spring when summer has its sweaty paws on us. 😉 —Pam
Actually, right now I’m feeling lucky to be a northern gardener. It sounds like you guys have to do quite a bit of planning to get the spring garden off to a good start–especially if we have a weird, mild winter like we did this year. It’s all very clear-cut with us—when it freezes, it’s done, until it thaws, which will be sometime in April. One less thing for my brain to have to process 🙂
A built-in rest period. You’re right, I can see the advantage of that. —Pam
My jessamine has buds, too – but when the ice melted, my coral honeysuckle lost all the large leaves. New ones are coming, so it’s probably okay. You’ve shown the Heartleaf skullcap before, and one of the Divas has lots of it. Once I get some new beds made, it will get a chance here, too.
Seeing your garden through the seasons is very inspiring, Pam! Instead of just looking at a potted plant in the nursery, or a photo in a catalog, we get to see how the mature plant can look in a real garden at various times times of the year, when the leaves are as valuable as the blossoms.
Annie at the Transplantable Rose
I’d be glad to give you some heartleaf skullcap; I’ve promised MSS some too. Keep in mind that it’s aggressive. It is still worth having, but you won’t want to turn your back on it for too long. —Pam
Pam, I have read your blog from start to finish today. I am interested in both gardening and photography and your blog has been a feast for my eyes. Thank you for the this wonderful pleasure. What a great way to spend this freezing Indiana night. Robin
Wow, that much of your time is a really nice compliment. Thank you so much for visiting and for commenting, Robin. —Pam
Pam… I think gardeners adapt, and get the itch whenever it is time in their climate to get outside and garden. I’ve gotten some seeds, but it is still too soon to start tomatoes, etc. inside. I want to do some pruning, but that will have to wait until temperatures get above freezing (10 right now, “feels like minus 7”). And I’ve learned through your blog and others in Austin that you have two seasons when you can’t really garden, if you count the hot summer as one of those. Looking forward to seeing pictures of your garden in full bloom soon!
It’s nice to think I’ve adapted to this climate. I never feel that I have when summer’s here. (“People aren’t meant to live where it’s so hot!” is my frequent complaint.) But I suppose summer is the price one pays for living in a moderate climate the rest of the year. At any rate, blogging allows us to vicariously enjoy gardens in different zones, in differently paced seasons. How did we ever get through our harsh summers (or winters) without it? —Pam