cloudy, clear, and back again: north wind: 31ºF

Not much snow here, but it’s persistent. For weeks now the open spaces in the botanical garden where I walk have been snow covered. Not so good for seeing whatever’s happening underneath, but the snow does make a great easel for seeing traces of what happened on top. This morning I saw these recent tracks of what I’d guess was a raccoon crossing the walkway.

Snow and with it colder than normal temperatures have kept budding and blooming in check. I’ve never expected much of Februarys, but most Februarys do come through with a bit of color from the swelling buds of the winter honeysuckles, the flowering quinces, and the Cornelian cherries. In really good years, I’ve been able to spot the odd bloom on a shrub of winter jasmine (Jasminum nudiflorum) or a flowering apricot tree. (Prunus mume). Not this year though. Apart from the various varieties of witch hazels that can be depended upon to flower from November to April, and a clump of snowdrops poking out of the snow near the fence around the mausoleum, there’s not much else. The buds in this picture are protecting a cluster of sweetly scented winter honeysuckles (Lonicera fragrantissima) that I’ll have to wait awhile to smell.

This botanical garden is hosting a “Backyard Bird Festival” this morning. Most of the participants are inside, but we did spot a few people with binoculars around their necks walking through the Japanese Garden. In case the real birds don’t feel in a festive mood this morning and decide to stay away, the keepers of the garden have scattered a few laminated ringers in trees and scrubs just so spotters don’t get skunked.


The light and the sky that switches from thick clouds to unblemished blue makes me wish I was a photographer. Here’s a view across the lake in the Japanese Garden just as the sky cleared.

Some people take in cats. Some collect beer cans. I’m finding it hard to resist getting one or two new witch hazels every year. I already have four of them. And this spring, I’ll be scouring the nurseries for this one. It’s a Chinese witch hazel called ‘Wisley Supreme’ (Hamamelis mollis). Witch hazel expert Chris Lane spotted the variety growing in the Royal Horticultural Society's Wisley Garden outside London about 15 years ago. Not much more is known about the variety though. What makes me want to add it to my growing collection is its size and timing: the size of Wisley’s flowers is impressive and the tree has the guts to show its blooms in these groundhog days of February.


After a long walk in the cold, the glasshouse that shelters plants from more temperate zones is my favorite place to stop. And February is the best month of all. This month the glasshouse is perfumed with the heady intermingling fragrances of three blooming shrubs: Winter Daphne (Daphne odora), Paperbush (Edgeworthia papyrifera), and Fragrant Sweet Box (Sarcoccoca ruscifolia). The Winter Daphne’s on the right; Paperbush on the right.

Of the three though, the tiny flowers on the Fragrant Sweet Box packs the most punch. The shrub, a genus in the boxwood family, has a scent that would do an air freshener proud. In Oregon where the Sweet Box is planted outdoors in many public places, it gets seen, noticed, and commented upon much more than a single shrub growing under glass. I liked the way Oregonian reporter/blogger Kym Pokorny described the Sarcoccoca shrubs that she sees every day on her way to work: “A happy slap in the face is just what I need about now every year.” Me too, Kym.