‘It is most certainly in the mind and in dreams that most of the charms of March exist.” Joe Eck and Wayne Winterrowd
Some say that April is the cruelest month but March can be just as bad. The tease of spring-like days and the actual vernal equinox alternate with nor’easters and polar vortexes to frustrate eager gardeners. I need some color and fragrance to get me through to the end of winter.
One way to ameliorate the lingering winter is to coax flowering bulbs and branches to bloom ahead of their scheduled time, to create an indoor springtime. Windowsills and tabletops can be full of flowers while it blusters outside.
October is the time to plan for March. While planting bulbs in the ground in the fall save some and pot them up in your best terracotta containers. Put some sterile soil in the bottom, set the bulbs on top, cover with a few more inches of soil, and water well. I leave the pots outside for a few more weeks to receive some cool fall rain and then carry them into the cold basement for their winter hibernation of ten to fifteen weeks. Starting in February and into March, the pots are brought up into the warmth and light of the house. Slowly the emerging noses of leaves poke out, then flower stalks appear with buds and flowers.
My favorites are the small-flowered narcissi. Five bulbs fit nicely in a small terracotta pot and a collection of them on a windowsill creates a welcome inside garden. The divisions or types of small narcissi include Triandrus, Cyclamineus, Tazetta, and Jonquilla. Most are native to the lands around the Mediterranean Sea and many cultivars have been developed. The popular paper white narcissi are a Tazetta variety but are not hardy in our climate. They are usually grown and thrown away. I prefer to plant bulbs that are hardy so that after their bloom inside I can transfer them into the garden for continued life and flowers. Last year I grew ‘Rapture’ a cyclamineus narcissus with a golden yellow trumpet and reflexes petals on stems only a foot tall. This year it is ‘Elka’ with creamy yellow petals and a darker cone. All these small blooms are fragrant but not overpowering like the paper whites can be. The golden ‘tête-à-tête’ variety can be found for sale in most supermarkets if you haven’t planned ahead.
Some bigger bulbs that I plant for their intense fragrance and deep colors are the Hyacinth orientalis. One bulb fits in a small pot or five in a wide, squat container. When the sun warms up the blossoms of hyacinths the perfume will fill the house. This year I have ‘Delft Blue’ aptly named with color the the blue glaze of Dutch ceramics, and ‘Gipsy Queen’ with the hue of a piece of fruit, peachy and apricot. The large hyacinth get planted out in the garden as well but they tend to weaken with age whereas the narcissi multiply.
Many spring-flowering bulbs are suitable for coaxing into bloom. Crocus, Scilla siberica, Iris reticulata, Muscari, and tulips can work. If there are mice about in the basement, tulips and crocuses will be eaten. Some people chill the bulbs in a refrigerator. In that case it is important that ripening fruit are not kept there as well since the ethylene gas emitted will interfere with the production of flower buds.
Branches from flowering trees and shrubs are easy to coax into flowering early. Forsythia and pussy willows are familiar candidates and can be brought in by January. The witch hazel cultivars are stunning and the delicate blooms better appreciated close up. The flower structure with thread-like petals and the discrete scent are perfection. One branch is enough. Many branches need a longer rest time outside before they are willing to be cajoled into bloom. Honeysuckle and magnolias should be left until March.
When cutting branches try not to damage the shape of the tree. It is best to harvest branches on a day with temperatures above freezing and to make a diagonal cut and then make slits up the stem. Some soak the branches under water overnight to rehydrate. Blossoms last longer if misted, kept away from heat, and the water is changed every few days. I find one branch flowering on the table while I sit eating an elegant companion.
When I moved to Ashfield in June 1974 I had a pot of big yellow daffodils left over from Easter, probably ‘King Alfred’, that I planted in my lower field. That spot now produces hundreds of blossoms every year. The bulbs multiply and the flowers seed. Every year I add more bulbs to the garden after I coax them to bloom inside where they provide me with an early spring. It may still be gray outside but I have the yellow, blue, and pink that I have persuaded to flower.
“A new day is coming... Crystal blue persuasion.” Gray/ Vale/ James
March 2021