Buoyed by bright bulbs pushing through the soil, FIONA CUMBERPATCH is back out in her small town garden in Lincolnshire for some essential tasks
There’s lots to love about February, though I do have to remind myself often. The winter months and dark nights can be a drag, with waterlogged soil or frozen ground halting precious time in the garden. But nature never stands still, and there are tiny signs of growth everywhere if I look closely.
Where I’ve planted bulbs, stiff green shoots are nosing through the soil. I step outside first thing, dressing gown on, hands wrapped around a steaming cuppa, to monitor their progress. Early crocuses may have already opened their blue and gold flowers in pots on the table outside my kitchen window, and the daffs should be offering an uplifting blast of buttery-yellow by the front door (if they’re a no-show, I’ll cheat and buy a few pots from the market!). It’s about the only time of year that I love yellow flowers, but when I see the tiny citrus-coloured aconites popping up in my local park, and the lemon-curd petals of narcissi unfurling, I can’t get enough of it.
That’s why I like to plan a visit to an open garden about now. It’s worth checking the National Garden Scheme (ngs.org.uk) to see what’s on locally. Viewing early bulbs and carpets of white snowdrops mingling with blush-pink hellebores is just what I need to get those gardening juices flowing.
Full of new-found enthusiasm, I’ll tackle some pruning. It’s the right time to do it, before the birds start nesting, although it’s important to choose a mild day with no frost or snow. Pruning can be daunting but armed with a pair of sharp secateurs, I simply remove any obviously dead or too-dry branches, or anything growing across paths and doorways. If there are buds on the shrubs or small trees that I’m tidying up, I look for an outward facing one, and cut just above it. I have to remind myself not to be too gung-ho, because I can get carried away
