Anodyne for April-is-the-cruelest-month-itis

Well, it had to happen sooner or later. The weather finally remembered that this is April in Nova Scotia, and threw a hissy fit worthy of a prima dona ex-federal tory cabinet minister stuck in a Charlottetown airport. There was no bad language out of the weather, tis true, but there was plenty out of me while I watched wind, rain, snow, more wind, chilly temperatures, and of course, yet more wind over the past few days.


However, I laugh in the face of such adversity. Ha. Ha.


Guess that wasn't overly convincing, was it? Okay, yes, I'm still cranky about the weather. But I've been using the inside days to get other work done so I can take a day off and go outside when April resumes behaving like a genteel lady once again. In the meantime, let's talk about some spring performers that make us happy. Like Lantana, which of course is an indoor performer at present but will be festooning many of my containers when the weather warms up again (top photo of Landmark sunrise).

Or primulas. I am very fond of them and have a few, though I plan to have a few more sooner rather than later. The watercolour one in the second photo is a lovely plant at the NSAC rock garden, and I'm hoping it has babies to share. This brilliant red and gold character came from Lloyd Mapplebeck's nursery last spring, and looks to be multiplying at a good rate. None of these primulas are in flower yet, I hasten to add. We're early, but we're not that early.

This brave soul, on the other hand, is close to flowering. This is Primula frondosa, the cutest little alpine-like primula you ever saw. We're talking tiny; each rosette is about the size of my camera lens cap, and the flowers are pea-sized. I love it.
Sneezing, looking around resentfully, but putting in an appearance is my old friend the hepatica. This simple little bloom makes my heart happy every spring when it and its friends put in an appearance. A native of Nova Scotia but all but extirpated, I got this from a nursery that grew its own plants from seed years ago. It's very slowgrowing, however, so I don't expect to have the woods awash in it any time soon.

The pieris that my friend Dick Steele gave me is quivering with anticipation. Just a few more days, and it will erupt into displays like this, it promises me. I've cut the holly back this year so the pieris has more room to shine.

Ah, the beautiful blues of scilla. This is one of those true blue flowers that just makes my heart happy to see it. It multiplies nicely, not insanely fast but with good persistance, and its cobalt blue flowers are very satisfying.

This rock cress is a determined plant. As soon as the weather warms up even slightly and sunlight hits it on its rocky hillside, it's in bloom. I haven't had as good success with the more lavender and magenta forms, but the white one does splendidly for me year after year.

A little foliage now, to excite us about things to come. Polemonium 'Stairway to Heaven' is reminding me that I love it for its foliage as well as for its softly blue flowers later in the spring.

And lastly, a perfect, exquisite, fragrant magnolia from down in the Valley. Mine aren't in bloom yet, and are still enough wrapped in their furry perules (those furry seed coverings) that the chilly weather won't harm the buds. I've convinced myself that I really should add one of the hardier yellow-flowered magnolias to the garden this year. Don't you think that's a good idea too?