The nature of gardening means that I’m never short of time to think. At this time of year I find myself consciously searching gardens for signs of life, carving out a little time in each place to look for emerging bulbs and new flowers.
It’s so incredibly important to do this; far from being an indulgence, taking an enhanced interest in my gardens helps to keep me focussed on what’s happening and why I’m really there. I don’t just care for gardens, I care for gardens.

Some flowers, like this red ‘witch hazel’, are harder to spot than others
At the beginning of January it seemed as though everything was fast asleep. If we think of the gardening year as a car journey, we were at a slow speed and in a low gear in January but now we’re picking up speed as we’re well into February and making our way on our journey. By summer we’ll be cruising briskly on the metaphorical freeway, before joining ever more minor and slower roads and coming to a gentle halt at the end of autumn.

Hellebores make grey winter days so much better
A lot of the plants that are flowering now are things that would naturally live in shady conditions in the wild during summer. The hellebores, snowdrops and even shrubs like Hamamelis and the exquisite cornelian cherry (Cornus mas) are plants that take advantage of the fact that other species are at a low ebb now; why compete when everything is at its most competitive if you have the option to shine during a quiet period instead?
A Question Occurred To Me
We know that there are meteorological and astronomical seasons, based around weather patterns or the position of the Earth respectively, but when do the horticultural seasons begin and end?
To consider this we must look at our plants and decide in which season we consider each to flower. Sounds easy, right?

For me snowdrops represent the arrival of winter, usually
For me the snowdrops represent winter. This makes sense in my head; there’s a nice logic to it, right up to the point where I remember that I have snowdrops in flower at the end of September. There is no way that September is ‘winter’.
Hellebores are a little easier as they are generally disciplined about when they flower, but even then there is a problem: hellebores are out in glorious bloom in my area but in other parts of the UK they’re just starting out. That’s just the UK… some of you in other areas are still gripped by bitter cold and won’t see your hellebores in flower for weeks yet. Some of you haven’t even seen your snowdrops, yet the UK is currently at ‘peak season’ for them.
Changing My Mind
When I was a younger and more novice gardener I used to think that Camellias were spring flowering. It made sense to me that a plant of such flamboyance would definitely be a spring thing. Now I’m not so sure; gardeners across larger swathes of the temperate world can have Camellias in flower from early autumn to early summer. There are even plants derived from the confusingly named Camellia azalea that should flower in summer.

Camellias are iconic spring flowers, except for the ones that flower in autumn, winter and summer…
Camellias are no longer just spring flowers for me; as I’ve learnt more about plants, gardens and the world around me I’ve been less inclined to think of winter as a ‘dead’ season. In fact with the right plants winter in the garden can be a time of great life.
An Impossible Question
I’m not going to abandon this question.
I’ve come to terms with the idea that this is a question to which there is probably no answer.

Daffodils are iconic spring flowers, but some flower in autumn and winter
I’m fine with that. If anything it makes the question even more interesting. I can mull over this question of where we as gardeners define our seasons as I please, and it’s an interesting topic of discussion with other gardeners.
So over to you.
If you were put on the spot and had to choose which plant represented the arrival of spring to you personally, what would you choose?
It seems that this is matter of species, not genus. Most of your examples indicate that the reasons for early or late bloom of certain Genus is predictable. It’s not a matter of the micro-climate of specific planting locations nor is it a heralding of accelerating climate change. There are indeed fall bloom species of Galanthus and Camelias are usually sold as Winter-into-Spring or Fall-into-Winter) blooming if you do some research before buying them.
You are right of course, but I was meaning marking spring in a more symbolic way.
When I see my neighbor’s snowdrops blooming, I know winter is over.. or almost! Thank goodness Virginia had another mild winter!Just one bout of ice and some snow. Need the snow but not the ice! To me the first sign of spring are my daffodills! I’ve planted hundereds of tulips but alas have too many squirrels who love to dig them up for a snack. So I planted lots of different daffs. My geraniums that I’ve had for decades and swear every fall, THIS IS the LAST time I am digging you up and putting you in the greenhouse for winter… but I do and they bloom all winter for me as a thank you! In April I will dig them up and put them back in the pots and window boxes in the courtyard, one more time… ha!
I’ve got so many plants that have been on their final warning for so long, yet always seem to win a reprieve…
For me it’s when the early crocuses are out. There are a few established patches of snowdrops around but for some reason I don’t see a lot of them around my neighborhood. On the other hand I see some yards with literally thousands of crocuses in bloom. Yes, it’s Spring! Yes, it’s still too early and cold to be really working in the yard and there’s a very real chance that we could still see snow, certainly we will see below freezing temperatures at night. But to me, crocuses = Spring.
Every year I forget about the crocuses; they just seem to slip my mind, which means of course that they’re magnificent and wonderful when they come up!
As I live in the Washington DC area for me it’s not based on when astronomical spring occurs or which plant blooms first. Spring for me happens when the cherry blossoms bloom. It’s well know our local and often national pre-occupation with the date the cherry blossoms open and to me that means spring is firmly in control – sometimes.
I’ve heard great things about the Washington DC cherries. What a magnificent way to celebrate spring.
And if you ever choose to visit DC area please consider staying with us – I am in Northern Virginia and have a guest suite and Marianne W can vouch for me as she lives nearby. John
Thank you, that’s very kind.
The hellebore are blooming, the daffodil are budding, and I’ve seen one crocus. All I have to do is make it through the rest of February (the longest month of the year IMO) and spring will be here. There will be more cold spells but nothing like the 5 degree nights of January.
Yes it is a surprisingly long month for one so short on the calendar!
And as you say there will be cold, but hopefully not as severe and not as long-lasting.
Oh, definitely the snow crocuses say “spring” to me, although winter aconite and snowdrops are only a couple paces behind. Nothing better than those cheerful clumps of gold, yellow, cream, and blue in the garden beds and scattered about the winter-hued lawn. Although early this morn we had 2-3 inches of heavy wet snow, I’m hoping the little crocuses will be ready to shine again by tomorrow or the next day. The early bloomers are tough little guys!
Aren’t they just! I’m captivated by the flowers that appear during the least clement time of the year.
I must confess a weakness for a good bulb lawn.
Snowdrops first, then the tommies. But a non plant sign is the smell of skunk. They are coming out of their winter sleep looking for love and food.
We don’t have anything like skunks in the UK; are they as obnoxious as their popular image suggests?
Due to microclimate conditions, some of my hellebores are blooming now. But I know spring is upon us for real when the iris reticulata bloom!
What beautiful flowers to look forward to.
Lovely post, Ben, as always.
To answer your question, the real thing I struggle with is what do seasons even mean where I am? I’m in the San Francisco area, where it never really gets properly cold, nor properly hot. We have distinct dry/rainy seasons, but to a visitor it looks and feels like Spring from late January through June. The rainy/winter season is official to me when we get our first proper downpour, and the jades and manzanitas flower.
However, for me personally, it’s Spring when my spring flowering bulbs and peonies start to poke up out of the ground, and the first flowers that mean Spring to me are plum tree blossoms.
I did think about places where seasons might be less pronounced; it’s interesting to think of a place that might indeed only have two seasons.
Wild plum is just coming out in the UK, and I’m looking forward to seeing its delicate blossom once more.
Reticulata iris and crocus. Not that winter weather can’t return. Cape Cod MA
Our Golden Willow. It pops out it’s pussy willows usually just after the change of the year. Despite all the snow storms and cold weather still to come I know we are moving closer to Spring.
Oops, meant to say catkins
That’s OK, I know what you mean!
I was admiring a native hazel tree, Corylus avellana, yesterday; it was covered in catkins and was as beautiful as any plant in a garden.
We are fortunate to have a mild but cold winter. Lows typically hover around freezing. Our winters are usually quite beautiful. Asters into first frost, winter pansies, camellias, hellebores, crocus, early daffodils, tulip flowering magnolias, pear trees. Anything evergreen usually still looks good. We seldom get 10″ of snow to crush everything, maybe once a decade.
Spring for me begins after last frost. Typically around the middle or end of March. When i can remove everything safely from the cold greenhouse.
That exciting time when you empty the greenhouse; was that the last frost? Am I taking things out too soon? A week or more of ‘heart in hand’, but spring and summer do come.
For us, it used to be the first snowdrops and winter aconite (Eranthis) would show flowers MAYBE late in Feb. – early March. This year I found two snowdrops and one aconite showing their buds the first week in Feb. It has since snowed again so they were covered. It is definitely NOT spring yet, nor will it be for another month. But seeing those little buds surely made my day, even if I did have to cover them with pine branches to deter their early showing. Perhaps with climate change I will see them in Feb. more often…I’d rather wait than have such change. I guess I don’t have much control over it though. My area has changed nearly a whole “zone” since we moved here 41 years ago. I might be able to grow camellias someday…yeah, right. Last frost here can be as late as May (last year) or even the first week in June. Extremes are what to expect now, unfortunately. All that doesn’t stop us from gardening. Here’s to mid-March when I’ll see the first crocus, more snowdrops and winter aconite spreading colors in small pools surrounded by grass just beginning to show green. Unless it snows again…
The Crocus seems a popular herald of spring for many, although here they’re pushing up at a frightening speed!
It’s very mild here, too mild; we’re seeing March temperatures in February, along with rain, and I’m bracing myself for a terrible cold snap again at some point.
Northern Virginia here, the weeping willow on a small bank behind my house is the first to break bud and gladden my heart. Of course I’ve planted a monster; it has grown very quickly since I planted it as a whip seven years ago. But I am old, 81yrs, and it may be someone else’s problem. I have planted 15 trees and probably 100 shrubs, mostly flowering, I have a hydrangea problem, also far too many perennials. The advantage of all this is not having to mulch; should there be a little open ground I have a few packets of flowering annual seeds. Everything that winter kills or dies back is left in place until the warmer days of Spring for cleanup. Of course to keep the dreaded HOH off my back I maintain a small lawn with a few boring but well pruned shrubs on the front of my house. Fortunately my garden backs to deep woods and my neighbors on each side are tolerant, I cut bunches of flowers for them