A frosty morning in February, and the garden is much as I left it at the end of last autumn: it's a mess. But now the days are lengthening and there are small signs of new growth - so it's time to get busy. Digging all that compost into the vegetable garden is going to be hard work. The garden, in a small ex-mining town in County Durham, dates from the 1930s and is about 65 paces long, ten paces wide and surrounded by other houses and gardens on all sides. It's about a quarter of a mile from the nearest open countryside and sheltered by hedges or fences on all sides.
Catkins of the corkscrew hazel and the winter-flowering cherry Prunus subhirtella autumnalis - early signs that spring is on the way.
The vibrant buds of the toffee tree Cercidiphyllum japonicum, whose foliage will be one of the highlights of autumn .....
... and the hairy buds of Magnolia stellata, haloed in the low winter sun.
Down in the greenhouse I've brought my small collection of auriculas in from the garden. Once they begin to flower rain would ruin their exquisite flowers.
Sweet pea seedlings have been carefully coaxed through the winter. This year we're aiming for an early crop of strawberries, so I've potted some up and brought them inside where...
... new leaves are unfolding already, decorated with water droplets on humid mornings. It's important to ventilate greenhouses well at this time of year, because combined dampness and humidity encourages the dreaded botrytis fungus. Ventilation isn't a problem at the moment because some of the panes of glass have been cracked by the heavy winter snowfall. Must do something about that....
Finally finished digging the vegetable garden - and I'm beginning to feel my age! This is very sandy soil and over the years I've dug in tonnes of compost, so it's fertile. In the middle distance you can see the raised bed that I built last autumn - this year's gardening innovation.
My constant companion while I've been digging, always on the lookout for ......
...................some of these. We have a very healthy population of earthworms.
The forced rhubarb, raised in the darkness of an upturned dustbin, is the most colourful plant in the garden in early spring - and the first crop that will be ready for harvest. It'll be stewed with sugar and a dash of Pernod and served with cream or maybe made into a rhubarb and orange crumble
The other end of the garden and the conservatory. This is the woodland garden, looking bare at the moment but....
... there are signs of life - these are the leaves of cuckoo pint. I've planted woodland wild flowers here.
These are the buds of Rhododendrom dauricum - the first Rhododendron to flower - and they are just about to burst. There's real excitement in the garden at this time of year - every day there are new buds swelling and a feeling that now spring is an unstoppable force .....
Some flowers, like this hellebore - are early bloomers even in uncertain weather. This is a rich source of nectar for the first bumblebees that venture out on sunny days in March.
The Azara that grows outside the conservatory door isn't a particularly attractive plant until March, when its golden yellow flower buds burst and release a rich scent of chocolate - an aroma that greets you every time you go out into the garden
Those alpine saxifrages on the table, from the high mountains of Europe, have been sitting out in the garden all winter, often frozen solid, but spring is their moment of glory... and they are flowering alongside...
It's also a place where spring can be hurried along a bit and flowers like these irises can be protected from the vagaries of spring weather, revealing their pristine beauty.
The Sarracenia pitcher plants in my small collection of carnivorous plants flower in spring, before the new leaves are formed. They have a powerful scent of stinging nettles and seem particularly attractive to early bumblebees that find their way into the conservatory.
... and the potatoes can be 'chitted' - encouraged to produce shoots that will help to ensure an early crop when they're planted.
This is the biological pest control in the conservatory - a butterwort called Pinguicula moranensis from Central America, with sticky leaves that trap those annoying little flies that emerge from potting compost - it works brilliantly well and flowers all through the winter.
... but every day more plants are coming into flower, like this willow beside the pond, which bumblebees love.
Sunshine has coaxed the Rhododendron dauricum into bloom and ...
... the camellia buds in the woodland garden have burst.
Some of the early perennials like this Bergenia are in bloom, alongside....
.... quince.....
... native celandines (which have spread all over the garden) ....
... and this strange curiosity - a mutant wood anemone where the stigmas in the centre of the flower have mutated onto a pom-pom of petals...
Pulmonaris are the most reliable performers in the garden in spring, producing a long sequence of nectar-rich blooms for the bumblebees, and warmer weather has finally ...
Within a week the pond is a quivering mass of gelatinous spawn - and these two look very proud of their achievement.
Auricula flower buds are like jewels set in a green clasp .....
... and when they open the centre of the flower is decorated with a white powdery ring of waxy farina ...
... which is easily washed away by rain - so they need greenhouse protection.
Impatience sets in at this time of year so I usually raise some climbing peas in the greenhouse for transplanting into the garden, for an early crop .... eating tender young peas directly from the pod is one of the many pleasures of gardening...
Meanwhile the greenhouse-grown strawberries are flowering so the prospect of eating their sun warmed fruits grows ever closer.
Our in the bog garden the strange cowl-shaped blooms of skunk cabbage are in flower and are best viewed froma distance, as their scent lives up to their name ....
... and contrasts with the fragrance of primroses ....
... and violets that are blooming in the woodland garden ....
... where daffodils ....
... and narcissi are in bloom, alongside ...
... early tulips.
Every year I raise tulips and daffodils in pots for flowering in the conservatory, then transfer them into the garden when they've finished flowering - so now there are dozens of assorted varieties, whose names I've forgotten, brightening up odd corners of the garden.
When spring arrives every day brings new flowers like these Anemone blanda around the pond ...
...and this bloodroot. The porcelaine white flowers look like miniature water lilies but you get a surprise if you pick one - the stem bleeds blood-red sap, like all parts of the plant if they are damaged.
Epimediums flower under the weeping pear tree and look best if you cut away last year's tired leaves before the flowers appear, soon followed by fresh new foliage.
Few flowers can rival the elegant, fragile grace of Erythronium 'Pagoda', that also blooms in the partial shade of the weeping pear.
Arnica provides a reliable splash of colour in spring .....
... and so does the Forsythia in the woodland garden.
The gooseberries are in bloom ....
.... insects are beginning to appear. Hoverfly larvae eat greenfly, so they are welcome to breed here ....
Some weeds are indestructable, like this strangely reptilian, spore-producing shoot of field horsetail. I gave up trying to eradicate this deep-rooted weed years ago.
... and the dandelions have triumphed too - but at least the bees enjoy them.
Down in the vegetable garden it's all looking very promising. The potatoes are up ....
... and the broad beans are looking good too .....
... and while I've been toiling in the garden a wood pigeon has been building a flimsy platform of twigs in the weeping pear, where it's sitting on a couple of eggs. Spring has definitely sprung ....
