I was on a mission when I went into the backyard this afternoon...probably something to do with taking care of the garbage or recycling. My mission was immediately aborted and promptly forgotten when I saw the crocus in bloom. Suddenly I was on a new mission: get the camera!
I have always loved these miniature marvels of the garden. They are bright and cheerful and very insistent about the fact that winter is over. There is only one drawback I can think of when it comes to crocus: you need hundreds upon hundreds of them to really make an impact.
Well, hundreds upon hundreds of crocus bulbs can get very expensive, very fast, so over the years, I've been content to watch one or two, sometimes even three, crocus pop up here and there. I figured I'd leave them to their own devices.
During all those years while I wasn't looking, the crocus began to multiply. Where there used to be one or two blooms, I am now finding six, seven, or even eight blooms.
Then it dawned on me: the garden was no longer home to a scattered handful of crocus. It was home to
drifts of crocus. Two whole
drifts of them.
By the standards of any self-respecting garden book or magazine, my drifts would generously be described as, oh...let's say
modest. But for this optimistic gardener, these are some of the finest looking drifts of crocus ever.
I was on a mission when I went into the backyard this afternoon...probably something to do with taking care of the garbage or recycling. My mission was immediately aborted and promptly forgotten when I saw the crocus in bloom. Suddenly I was on a new mission: get the camera!
I have always loved these miniature marvels of the garden. They are bright and cheerful and very insistent about the fact that winter is over. There is only one drawback I can think of when it comes to crocus: you need hundreds upon hundreds of them to really make an impact.
Well, hundreds upon hundreds of crocus bulbs can get very expensive, very fast, so over the years, I've been content to watch one or two, sometimes even three, crocus pop up here and there. I figured I'd leave them to their own devices.
During all those years while I wasn't looking, the crocus began to multiply. Where there used to be one or two blooms, I am now finding six, seven, or even eight blooms.
Then it dawned on me: the garden was no longer home to a scattered handful of crocus. It was home to drifts of crocus. Two whole drifts of them.
By the standards of any self-respecting garden book or magazine, my drifts would generously be described as, oh...let's say modest. But for this optimistic gardener, these are some of the finest looking drifts of crocus ever.
3 comments:
I too love crocus. And what a great way to describe them -- drifts of crocus! This year, I too have so many more than I originally planted. (I'll have to move some in the fall).
But aren't they beautiful! The first things to show their pretty faces in this neck of the woods!
I agree that you may deem them 'drifts' of crocus! They are adorable. Can you believe I have none in my garden? I must remedy that next fall and buy a couple of big bags at Costco. I am glad to hear they multiply. My grape hyacinths do that, and I also scatter the seed to new places each year.
Big or small drifts don't matter - you have crocuses!!!! Winter is over and we can finally see some colour. I've only been in my house for 1 1/2 years, planted crocuses the first month we were here - now I have double the blooms of last year. Another year or two and I may have a "drift" too.
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