I know just yesterday Punxsutawney Phil predicted an early spring for this year, but I could have told you that, based on the signs of spring I’ve already seen in my garden. Not that I’ve ever really laid much stock in what a Pennsylvania rodent had to say about the matter; even as a child I figured his forecast probably only applied to his neck of the woods and had nothing to do with Oregon’s weather.

During most of January we here in the southern part of the state experienced typical chilly temperatures and above-average rain- and snowfall (good for the snowpack, skiers and alleviating drought). I knew I had pruning and other garden chores to attend to, but the soggy ground and dripping skies kept me indoors. A break in the storms the second week of January allowed me to get out and take down the last of the Christmas lights on my Japanese maple tree out front, and that’s when I made my first discovery of the tip towards longer days.

Hellebores are a hardy evergreen plant with lovely flowers. Depending on the species, they are commonly known as Christmas roses or Lenten roses, based on when they bloom, but they are typically among the earliest plants to bloom here. I usually notice their shoots and buds around the end of January, but here was a burst of growth arising from last year’s glossy foliage and the weathered brown leaves of the maple above them.  What a cheery sight amidst the post-holiday blahs! You have to get down close to really appreciate their lovely faces,  but I was more than happy to do so for a quick dose of spring. 

The rest of the month returned to cold and wet conditions, but just this past week we got a real blast of springlike weather. On Tuesday we hit a record high temperature for January of 73 (!), with the day before hitting 68, and the nighttime lows were in the upper 50s. I couldn’t wait to get outdoors and start poking around in the garden, where I was rewarded with hints of spring. All it took was a keen eye searching among last fall’s leaves and dead foliage.

I’ve planted lots of spring bulbs in my flower beds, and they reliably start sending up green spears of leaves even before Thanksgiving, but I don’t expect blooms until months later. The crocuses usually appear first, right around the first week in February, accompanied by tiny irises, no more than six inches tall and decked out in intricately patterned petals.   The biggest surprise for me of the early bloomers were these bright and cheery narcissus, no more than eight inches high but gleaming like the sun with that high-wattage buttery yellow.

Pink and white heather always provide my rockery with a welcome bit of color this time of year, and I was rewarded with their show after sweeping aside a layer of leaves which had masked their beauty.   A little more leaf-clearing revealed more signs of new growth among the dead stalks of sedum,  peonies,  and day lilies.

Looking up from the soil, I spotted signs of life along the tangled, seemingly dead vines of clematis, draped over trellises along the fence. Already, bright green shoots appeared along the vines like Christmas lightbulbs strung on a wire, signaling the change of seasons.    And there in my raised beds poked garlic shoots above their blanket of leaves,    promising a harvest in June.  Finally, I turned my attention to several large pots I’d planted with tulip and daffodil bulbs last fall, left on a side patio to await their debut.     There they were, leaves already rising several inches above the soil. While the blooms won’t appear for several weeks, they still signal the promise of warmer, longer days. I just might set them out at the front of the house now to lend a little hope to passersby eager for spring.

I know most of the country is still dealing with snow and ice and cold, but I hope these hints of spring give you a lift as well!

— Patty Vanikiotis, associate editor/copy editor