The bells are ringing, and you won’t hear a sound, but the fragrance will be there to enjoy, and the colour, well the colour. Blue of course, bluebells. I’m waxing nostalgic here thinking of the ancient woodlands of England where I grew up. In spring they’re awash with the much-loved, nodding heads of the bluebell that rise above the floppy, strap-like foliage. They’re an incredible wildflower spectacle, millions of them carpeting the woods with a violet glow. As children we’d always visit the woods to pick a few to display and enjoy the fragrance at home. The fragrance is redolent of hyacint ..read more

Back before fruit and vegetables were available year-round at the grocery store, when everyone grew their own food, people were desperate after a long winter for something fresh, but it would be months before anything could be harvested from the garden, except for rhubarb — yes, humble rhubarb, which can be harvested as early as May, even earlier if forced, and earlier still if forced indoors. It’s easy to grow and even easier to eat, especially in a pie. As kids we used to eat fresh stalks dipped in sugar, and I can tell you it took a lot of sugar to overcome the tart taste of fresh rhubarb ..read more

I can’t say the now defunct design of the last Ontario licence plates concerned me particularly, but it was nice to see the trillium featured on them. I also liked the reference to gardening with the statement that Ontario is a place to grow. The trillium has been Ontario's floral emblem since 1937, and as I’m sure everyone knows, that funny little symbol with three points does represent our provincial flower. The trillium is also the state wildflower of Ohio, but they don’t honour it the way we do in Ontario. During World War I, the Ottawa Horticultural Society suggested the gentle white tr ..read more

 It wouldn’t be spring without tulips. They pop up like targets in a shooting gallery, in perfectly coordinated clumps, and in great swaths of every colour of the rainbow. That’s largely thanks to The Netherlands where they’ve been growing and breeding more varieties for us to enjoy for the last four hundred years. But that’s not the beginning of the tulip story. It began, oh, a thousand years ago when someone, wandering through a valley in the Mountains of Heaven, spotted a delightful little wildflower. It would have been familiar to local people but unknown to travelers from Europe. An ..read more

Winter truly ends with the appearance of the first bright, yellow daffodil. Daffodils evoke joy in spring, and maybe a tinge of regret that someone forgot to plant bulbs the previous fall. Oh sure, there were snow drops as early as January, followed by crocuses, even an eager tulip, but for me, it takes a daffodil; they’re much cheerier, nodding and waving a greeting. As Wordsworth described them in his classic poem, “tossing their heads in a sprightly dance, fluttering and dancing in the breeze”. Wordsworth claimed he saw ten thousand at a glance. This may be so, but I doubt it rivals the nu ..read more

 Blue, blue, my world is blue. No, I’m not feeling down, even if the garden is sleeping. Those words are from a song from way back that has stuck in my head and comes to mind whenever I look at blue flowers. Blue is rare in flowers, true blue, that is. Peer closely and there’s typically a hint of purple in tiny streaks throughout the petals or concentrated near the centre. I call it catalogue blue where the blueness is promoted with a glossy picture that’s as blue as can be. However, take a step back and blue flowers will look blue enough. It’s a favourite of many gardeners and well soug ..read more

 First it was the snow drops, poking through the snow, though hardly a harbinger of spring as they sometimes bloom in January. A little patch of yellow crocus is next to appear, followed by the hellebores. Depending on snow depth, they’re eager to flower as soon as the snow melts. In my garden I have another plant that’s in the race to announce spring has arrived. It begins to flower even before the crocus or hellebore. It’s Erica carnea, better known as heather or winter heath. When the snow bank beside the driveway first receded back around the middle of March, grubby little specks of ..read more

Did you know that a good part of your honey may have come from insect poop. Yes, you heard that right, and I apologize if you’re drizzling honey on your cereal right now. A study of the DNA in honey carried out by Noah Wilson-Rich, an entomologist who founded The Best Bees Company, revealed that fact and other valuable information. The study sampled urban hives in major cities across the US and the preliminary results are surprising We naturally assume that honey bees are busy collecting nectar and pollen from flowers, and we know they do because we watch them doing it. It’s a biased percepti ..read more

 Make a statement — plant a tree. If it's only what, where, when, and how that's stopping you, perhaps I can help. Maybe you've already decided on what type of tree you wish, possibly influenced by childhood memories of lazy afternoons spent beneath a huge maple, or swinging from the branch of a sturdy oak. There's nothing wrong with those choices; however, it may take half a lifetime before those trees grow large enough for you to relive those dreams, and that's if you stay in your home longer than the Canadian average of only a few years. The beauty of planting a tree, though, is the le ..read more

For my latest column, follow the link below then click on "Columns" top left. Does your garden have winter interest? Unless there’s a fresh coat of pristine snow on mine in February, it’s as likely to be covered in grubby slush. http://home.golden.net/~dhobson/index.html     ..read more