A Second Chance for Daffies

Inspired by the gardens I saw in the last few days at Longwood Gardens and at Winterthur, it was easy to dream big and jump right into a challenging task today.  The year 2016 seems to be the year that most of my daffodils simply petered out.  Clump after clump was all foliage, no blossoms, such as the one pictured here in the foreground:

 DISCOURAGING!!  But just as I was lamenting my problem, the Albany Times Union garden columnist, Nancy O'Donnell addressed the very issue.  And so, buoyed with coffee, tools in hand, determination in my heart, I set out to follow her advice.

First I dug to a depth below the clump and raised the clump from the ground, being ever so careful not to sever any bulbs.  This was not easy going, as I had put these in along the edge where the lawn meet the woods, where roots have made the soil almost impenetrable.  I discovered that the bulbs had sunk quite deeply into their original nesting spot over the years, which contributed to their failure to bloom.





Once the clump had been removed, I extracted and separated the bulbs. Beginning to feel like I was performing an autopsy, I discovered another reason that the daffodils were tired.  I always plant five bulbs per hole.  The number of bulbs in the planting site had quadrupled, but the size of the bulb had shrunk considerably.  The next task was, of course, to dig three additional holes per clump, to accommodate all.

On to the depth problem.  More meticulous than willy-nilly this time, I laid a stick across the top of the hole, put enough soil in the bottom to place the bulb no more than four inches below the surface, using a ruler rather than my skewed guesswork.  Four inches is a reasonable distance to expect a daffodil bulb to send food up to the surface without becoming exhausted.

Next was to tend to the nutritional needs that would hopefully help them to grow into bigger, more productive bulbs.  As I back-filled I sprinkled bone meal into soil, an application I may repeat in October.  They look a bit scraggly, but the green foliage needs to stay until it browns and can be pulled out gently. It is their food for the next growing season.

I marked each new hole with a tag so that next year I will be able to tell if my efforts were rewarded.  Time will tell.

I love surprises when I garden.  When I crouched low to take a picture, my eye spied  brilliant crimson in the woods, a few feet away.  A trillium - the first I've seen on our little plot of land.




While I worked I was gently scolded by the bluebird who has a nearby nest.  I have waited a long time for bluebirds to start a family  here. I hope he and the Mrs. will forgive me for the disturbance today.

Longwood Gardens and Winterthur

I was able to reduce my wish list by two very special destinations this week - Longwood Gardens near Philadelphia, and Winterthur, just a few miles further in Delaware.  Pierre S. du Pont was an American entrepreneur, businessman, philanthropist and member of the prominent du Pont family.  His engineering background and love of horticulture led him to design the first gardens at Longwood in 1907. He continued to create, create, create for nearly fifty years.  Thanks to his dedication, considerable wealth, and desire to share his gardens with everyone, today Longwood is a public garden with over 1000 acres devoted to magnificent floral displays, fountains and an expansive conservatory.

 

We were there at  the peak of tulip season. Soon the acres and acres of tulips will be dug up to make room for the next blooms of the summer.

Even though most daffodils were past their peak, this variety was still going strong, and with the orange tulips, well they were just showing off, weren't they?

This is one of many "patchwork quilts of tulips.

In the conservatory flowers hung from above wherever I looked.....

HOLY HANGING HYDRANGEA!!!!!

Throughout the conservatory were artistic "en masse" combinations of texture, height, color

And individual blossoms to delight.......

Corridors of flowers, inside and out.

We spent our second day at Winterthur.  

Another du Pont, Henry Francis was a horticulturist and collector. Such a collector, in fact, that this mansion has 175 rooms housing his collections of nineteenth and twentieth century art and antiques.

But because this is a gardening blog after all, I'll stick to the subject.  What is so beautiful about the gardens surrounding Winterthur is the peace, tranquility and natural look.  There are no annuals.  Trails meander through woods, along brooks, under a canopy of trees and over gently rolling hills.  Bulbs, wildflowers, perennials, flowering shrubs and trees were carefully planned, but one can believe that it was God alone who placed them there.

A clump of trillium amongst  anemone.......

And one trillium that found its own special spot to grow.

Children love to run around the open spaces, until they find the enchanted woods, and then they, too, are spellbound.

Resting spots were invitations to take a rest, see the beauty, have a little thinking time.

This is longer than my usual blog, and off the beaten path, but it was so hard NOT to share after such a memorable trip.  It is going to be difficult to go back to posting pictures of MY humble and oft-struggling little garden, but stay tuned...