Always a pleasure to see Lungworts (Pulnonaria officinalis). The flowers morph through exquisite hues of pink and blue. Where the common name ends in "wort" and/or the Latin name includes "officinalis" the plant in question was believed to have some medicinal or herbal use. 

 In the case of Pulmonaria species this probably related to the Mediaeval 'Doctrine of Signatures'. By that reckoning plants resembled parts of the body they could cure. The speckled leaves of Pulmonaria resemble an afflicted lung hence Lungwort.  

Caterpillar on Grape Hyacinth. 

 Burymead Springs is on the outskirts of Hitchin in Hertfordshire. It has been described as "part of an ancient riverside meadow, sandwiched between the River Hiz, the Hitchin railway flyover and a scrapyard".

 In the mid-90s a spring fed lagoon was excavated to create an area of permanent open water surrounded by reed beds and the wet meadows. The flyover was built alongside the existing railway embankment a decade ago to create a better junction between the East Coast Mainline and the Cambridge line. The ancient seems to co-exist reasonably well with modernity.

 One might also mention the close proximity to an abandoned sewerage works, a functioning sewage works, the Hitchin industrial estate, a large area of allotments and the village of Ickleford. This patchwork is not untypical of urban fringes where town meets country and not without interest to the nature lover.

 The Snowdrops in the garden have finished flowering leaving a thick blanket of foliage which will wither in the weeks ahead. It's important to leave them be as they continue to photosynthesise building up their reserves of energy in the bulb itself. A bulb is a bulb by virtue of being a storage organ during dormancy for next year's growth.

 These Snowdrops have probably been there for decades and multiplied over time. I've helped them on their way by digging up small clumps and relocating them round and about. Planting "in the green" has long been regarded as the best way to propagate Snowdrops. Some traditional nurseries still dispatch Galanthus species with their greenery at this time of year. In fact planting the bulbs in autumn is fine if they are freshly lifted. Some bulbs respond well to being stored during their dormant period but Snowdrops do not like to dry out.

 Another way to go about it is to buy pot grown bulbs and put them into the ground while they are still in leaf. I saw these Galanthus nivalis Flore Piano on a market stall. They were selling them off at £1 a pot or 6 for £5. Since each pot contains 5 or 6 bulbs that is no more expensive than buying them as loose bulbs in the autumn. Looking forward to seeing them in 2024!

 I bought some knobbly Jerusalem Artichokes from a market stall. These are for planting on the allotment rather than eating. They multiply rapidly and are harvested in late winter. Helianthus tuberosus is of the same genus as Sunflowers and grows to a similar height.

 Yes, the bees are buzzing now the days are getting milder. Plants are starting to come out of dormancy but not much is in flower as yet. Narcissus February Gold provides some early forage. This is quite a large daffodil and bees will crawl right into the trumpet. Worth clicking on the photo to enlarge it: note the very long tongue at work!

 A particular favourite: Flowering Quince. Pretty sure this is 'Crimson and Gold' one of the Chaenomeles x superba cultivars. Long lived, hardy, versatile. Grows in full sun but tolerates a fair amount of shade. Striking as a standalone shrub, can also be used as a hedging plant. Usually grown as an ornamental but "bears masses of apple-size fruits" to quote Martin Crawford. I saw it growing in his forest garden in Devon a few years back. He rates Chaenomeles species as reliable croppers with "a wonderful range of lemon and citrus flavours". 

 Honeybees were buzzing all over this one as seen below- my first bee photo of 2023! The cold start to the year has kept bees in hibernation by and large. I've noticed a few bumblebees on the wing; these will be Queens in search of nectar and pollen and somewhere to nest. Bumblebees are furry and able to tolerate cooler weather. Honeybees do not emerge from the hive until temperatures reach about 10℃ .

 I received a parcel of bare root plants from Shipton Bulbs earlier in the week as mentioned in my entry concerning Soloman's Seal. The others I ordered were Dame's Violet, Colombine, Jacob's Ladder and Valerian. 

 Shipton cultivate native species on a smallholding in Wales that are about as close as you can get to actual wildflowers. They send them out the old fashioned way i.e. bare root in spring or autumn. A bit of soil and wet newspaper around the roots is sufficient to keep them healthy during dispatch.

 I've been wanting to establish some Valerian after seeing a patch of it in flower at the South London Botanical Institute last year...

 

 I give this Bay (Laurus nobilis) a severe haircut every spring. 

 Left to its own devices L. nobilis becomes a voluminous and rather shaggy tree. The one at the end of the garden is of a similar age but I have pruned it only lightly over the years.

 Bay is amenable to a bit of topiary. It can be maintained as a small but shapely shrub in a pot if needs be. I didn't plant either of these and probably would not have planted one right next to the apple tree as is the case here. If I didn't shear it every year it would have subsumed and shaded out the apple by now. Even so it's getting too large for that location. I might go hard into it next spring though it would look fairly stark for a year or two.

 NB that Ivy growing up the back of the houses beyond could do with a haircut too. Much as I like Ivy I wouldn't want it reaching the roof tiles and round the chimney pots.

 All those clippings were certainly aromatic and made for a good mulch around the Acanthus mollis underneath. A Bay leaf or two in a stew is very nice but that's a few thousand more than I need for culinary purposes. 

 A delivery of bare root plants from Shipton Bulbs included five muddy rhizomes of Soloman's Seal (Polygonatum multiflorum). They can be propagated by dividing the rhizome where it forms a knuckle. I watched a video on the subject recently presented by one of the gardeners at Beth Chatto's garden. He made the point (which hadn't occurred to me) that the stem arches backwards from the bud over the rhizome. So if you want the stems to fall in a particular direction they should be planted accordingly.

 Having said that all plants have a tendency to lean towards the light so I imagine the shoot has a tendency to adjust itself? But it seems sensible to begin by positioning the rhizome in the right orientation. Soloman's Seal is a catch all name for a number of species and cultivars in the Polygonatum genus most of which are characterised by the graceful arching stems that flower in late spring/early summer.

 

 I mentioned recently that Yew (Taxus baccata) can be used for hedging. As seen above it can be clipped to form a barrier of dense solidity. But you generally only see Yew hedges with old buildings. Taxus baccata grows very slowly so planting it for that purpose requires patience.

 These days species like Cherry Laurel (Prunus lauroceracus) are much in evidence. I notice that one supplier of bare root hedging states that Yew will grow 20-30cm in a year whereas Cherry Laurel will grow 30-60cm. That's probably overstating Yew and underestimating Cherry Laurel.

 The best things in life are free, for example taking advantage of plants natural tendency to propagate themselves. Tellima grandiflora self-seeded into the cracks between paving stones by my kitchen and I carefully extracted them to replant in the garden itself.

 This White Comfrey (Symphytum orientale) self-seeded from others on the allotment and clumps particularly vigorously for some reason. I dug the clump up and divided the tangle of tap roots into eight separate specimens. I wasn't very gentle about it wrenching them apart and slicing with the spade where necessary. 

 Comfrey grows back strongly as long as you have a good piece of root. The biggest division I planted back where it came from and the rest were bound for the garden.

 From time to time I work with an old friend who has developed a wonderful garden in the grounds of a music school in Hertfordshire. Several of the herbaceous borders are apt to be swamped by Yellow Archangel (Lamium galeobdolon subsp. montanum). In the process of weeding I made sure to get a bucketful to take away with me because I like it despite its bad reputation.

 The terms "ground cover" and "invasive" are somewhat interchangeable and both can be applied to Yellow Archangel. Native to continental Europe and western Asia it is regarded as a rampant weed in some of the countries it has been introduced to. 

 Here in the UK it is an offence to plant in the wild under Schedule 9 of the Wildlife and Countryside Act, nonetheless is sold by garden centres and nurseries. Personally I think it has its uses as a ground cover in town and city but perhaps not a rural garden. Actually I have never seen it gone wild anywhere in the countryside though it is said to be invading native habitats.

 NB Yellow Archangel is also the common name of the native plant found in ancient British woodlands which is the straight species Lamium galeobdolon. The two lipped tubular yellow flowers are very similar but the leaves do not have the frosted variegation of the subspecies montanum. 

 "In like a lion, out like a lamb" is the old saying for March. I woke to gusting flurries of snow; just a light dusting on the ground but it has been fiercer up north by all accounts.

 Unseasonably early springs have become commonplace in recent times but not this year. Actually I remember snow as late as Easter when I was a child. The past week or two have been biting cold and drizzly but I'm not complaining, March should be like that. And we need the water after February being so dry.

 Whether the weather will go out like a lamb at the end of the month remains to be seen. It promises to be a good spring when it comes. The cold is keeping plants dormant so they will all stir together as the air and soil warms up.

 A couple of Yews (Taxus baccata) have appeared as saplings right by the cabin I built for my father back in the day. They were undoubtably seeded there by bird droppings. Yew berries are poisonous to humans but eaten by birds. The seeds have a hard coating which is weakened by passing through their digestive system thus aiding germination. The seeds in the berries, leaves and wood all contain toxic alkaloids where people and animals are concerned.

 Yews grow very slowly to a great size and age. The Ankerwyke Yew is one of Britain's oldest trees, thought to be somewhere between 1,500 and 2,500 years old. Many churchyards have ancient Yew trees but in certain cases it is probable that the Yew was there before the church. 

 The symbolism of the Yew is likely to pre-date Christianity: its longevity speaks of eternal life whereas its toxicity is suggestive of death. Its habit of regrowth where branches touch the ground is a resurrection of sorts. And it has practical uses: the wood is very hard and was used to make longbows for example.

 So next to the cabin is not really an ideal place to manifest these qualities. I carefully dug both out teasing the roots from the soil. I replanted them at the end of the garden with the idea that they could (eventually) have the makings of a section of hedge along the low back wall. Taxus baccata is amenable to pruning into hedging. Indeed it is sold bare root by various suppliers at this time of year for that purpose.

 Narcissus 'February Gold' on the allotment. 

 Snow is forecast. Until then here are some Snowflakes. These are Spring Snowflakes (Leucojum vernum), easily confused with Summer Snowflakes (Leucojum aestivum) which also flower in spring but a bit later.

 Both bear a strong resemblance to Snowdrops and they are of the same plant family Amaryllidoideae. 

 Raw March weather- damp and chilly. But in South London the garden slowly stirs. The Snowdrops and Crocuses have largely faded; Narcissus February Gold and Tete a Tete bring a splash of cheery yellow.

 I generally give Buddleias a hard prune in early spring to keep them shapely when new growth starts to sprout all over. I cut back to an obvious point of growth but frankly they will grow back from wherever they are cut to. Buddleias are fairly irrepressible including in spots where you might not want a Buddleia, like growing out of a drainpipe halfway up the house. But so lovely in places where you want masses of nectar-rich conical flowerheads attracting butterflies and bumblebees in high summer.

 Are we heading for another drought? Last year it was so dry by late summer that large cracks were opening up in my local park in South London. Rainfall across the country has been somewhat higher than the long term average during November through January but way down in February. My home county of Hertfordshire received one percent of average rainfall during the month.

 The earth is still moist and the winter sun not sufficient to bake the soil. Indeed there is a damp, chilly atmosphere most days but no rain to speak of. We rely on winter weather to replenish rivers and reservoirs and we really need that after the drought of 2022.