The garden in February
Kari-Astri Davies is continuing to strive for her perfect plot and watching the first signs of new life emerge
Spring is not quite with us yet: an early harbinger is wild, white plum blossom freckling the dark, tangled twigginess of still bare hedgerows. The other day, I watched a Blue tit determinedly pecking around the hole of a wooden bird box, trying to expand it. The diameter is already as recommended for Blue tits by the RSPB. Perhaps it has been over-indulging on our sunflower seeds in preparation for nesting.
Growing passion
As this gardening year begins to slowly gain momentum, I have been sitting in front of the fire cogitating about my ‘gardening journey’ so far. We are all on our own gardening paths.
In my late 20s, in pursuit of the rare or unusual, I was over-ambitious. Avarice often overrode how I was going to provide the right cultural conditions for choice plants, such as delicately crinolined Narcissus romieuxii on the windowsill of a windy fifth floor flat in the UK. Where exactly was the beautiful, blue-flowered tender twiner, Thunbergia grandiflora going to go, germinating one February on top of a heater and frequently tipped over by a cat wishing to occupy the same warm space?
It can be discouraging if someone is disparaging about a new plant purchase, even if they may be correct in pointing out that you have the wrong soil type or have fallen for an annual that will flower and die in a few months’ time.
Four country gardens later, I am still learning from my mistakes and frequently over-reaching myself in terms of cultivational capabilities, but that is what keeps me gardening.
Seed sowing
The first sowings of seeds of some tender plants are starting to germinate. Gardeners on social media are already sharing pictures of emerging tomato seedlings, but it is too early for me. Tomatoes cannot be planted out in my unheated greenhouse until it has been completely vacated by overwintering plants in late May.
One unusual plant which has readily germinated is Azorina vidalii. The seed came from the Hardy Plant Society. I have not grown azorina for years, so I am reacquainting myself with it. This shrubby campanula has glossy, evergreen, fine-bladed leaves: when mature, upright stems carry pink-shaded, white bells like old-fashioned lampshades. It is generally short-lived, but sets seed abundantly.
Tithonia rotundifolia ‘Torch’ brightens up plantings from later summer until the frosts. The single dark orange daisy heads sit on a network of gangly branches, reaching nearly 6ft 6in (2m) by the end of the season.
“The blue-tit hop, with pert delight, About the crab-tree blossom” Horace smith, ‘Letter from the Town Mouse to the Country Mouse’
There are more compact cultivars, but I like the sprawly effect in among other border plants. Tithonia are easy from seed, although I have found that the seedlings then need a bit of tender care before they really get going. Maybe they should be sown later, in March.
Amaranthus divides opinion. Last year, my mum and I enjoyed the purple, pink and pale biscuit-splashed leaves of Amaranthus tricolor ‘Early Splendor’. Dad pronounced it gaudy. When planted out, mine were immediately eaten by slugs. The seedlings given to my mum grew lustily, reaching their full ‘gaudy’ potential. Amaranthus caudatus ‘Viridis’ was also fun; it grew to approximately 32in (80cm) with long green ponytails.
In their eagerness to get going, amaranthus seedlings often get a bit pale and drawn in February’s low light levels. Mum can start them off for me this year, as she has growing lights in her growth room.
During February, I will be checking the conservatory and greenhouses when the sun is out. The temperature in the conservatory can swing from 7°C to 25°C. I will need to keep air circulating to stay on top of botrytis fungus.
I will also be cutting hedges, particularly the main hornbeam hedge. This will get the first cut of the year before birds start nesting.
“There is always in February some one day, at least, when one smells the yet distant, but surely coming, summer”
Gertrude Jekyll