Diary of My Country Life-February 21st, 2026

The original source of this blog: https://www.lotusandmichael.com/blogs/diary-of-my-country-life

02/21/2026 Saturday 35-48F Cloudy

It showered almost the whole day yesterday. Finally, the temperature was warm enough to wash away the piled snow. When I saw the long-time-no-see ground of my courtyard, I felt thrilled.

I carried all my potted plants outdoors to let them have a good, fresh drink; I fancied that I could hear their gulps of the rainwater and stretching of their branches. “Wow, spring is here at last.” They claimed happily. So did I.

CNY had passed. Based on my experience, some brave ones in my garden should have reacted to the changes of the season. So, this morning since all the snow had melted away and I could take close observation of my plants, I checked them eagerly. Here’s were what I found:

Snowdrops were always the first ones to bloom in my garden, sometimes they bloomed in late January, sometimes in early February. This year perhaps because of the long lasting, extremely cold weather, none of them had bloomed yet. But I did find a large, swelled white bud, which seemed like it would bloom in the following one or two days. But, according to the forecast, there will be a snowfall tomorrow and Monday of 10 inches in total, and the temperature will drop to ten-degrees F. It will be very tough for this delicate, swelled bud to keep its schedule. Swim (bloom) or sink (die immaturely), I wish it good luck.

In my flower beds and among the fallen leaves, it was very easy to notice daffodil’s little green shoots peeping out here and there. No doubt that in several weeks, the world would be theirs. I had three types of daffodils in my garden: The common larger ones with bright yellow flowers; a smaller version of the yellow ones; and some white petaled large ones. In our neighborhood, it seemed like every household planted daffodils therefore in March, I often saw big patches of bright yellow flowers scattered all around. 

When I lived in Shanghai, I planted daffodils as well every winter, not in the soil or in a pot but in water. I had a green glazed shallow bowl with fine cracks allover, filled it with clean water, then placed three or four bulbs in it. Sometimes if white pebbles were available, I arranged some around the bulbs for decoration. In January, the bulbs began to sprout, soon afterward shot out the spikes and flowered. Different from the daffodils here, the most common ones in Shanghai were smaller in size, had white petals and yellow horn-shaped core, and most importantly, they smelled gorgeous (perhaps their name should be narcissus instead of daffodil)—the reason why I chose to plant them. Shanghai was warmer than where I am living now. So to extend the blooming period, I put the plant outside the window every evening to chill and took it back indoors every morning. In this way, I could enjoy the most of its fragrance filled in my apartment. And once the flowers faded, I disposed of the bulbs (in fact they could be planted in the soil and rebloom next year).

Pity that the daffodils in my garden weren’t fragrant. If I smelled hard I did notice a very subtle perfume, and among all the three cultivars, the smaller yellow one smelled  the best. But still, it’s incomparable with the ones I had in Shanghai.

Another famous fragrant early spring bloomer in my garden was hyacinth. I had the two most common colors: Pink and purple. I planted several bulbs under the boxwood near my courtyard, and this morning I found one cluster of shoots. I believe that if I tried harder, I could have found more under the brown leaves because last year there were seven clumps. The bulbs multiply every year; hopefully I will see more flowers.

All my herbaceous peonies had shown their bright red eyes, especially the tree peonies, several buds had already started to crack open. Very soon, perhaps in one or two weeks, those open buds will turn into little pink leaves, and little leaves will grow into big leaves; then among the big leaves flower buds will appear, will swell, will bloom, will make all the bees and ants crazy. At that time, spring will reach its peak; my garden will look completely different from how it looks now.

I planted dozens of lavenders around my house and along the fences. Perhaps due to the dry hot summers in my area, they never grew well. Some mysteriously died, and some others spread more baby lavenders. Each early spring, I also like to cut some robust branches and planted them—if I was lucky, they would grow into a new lavender plants. Therefore, lavenders had become the number one plant in quantity in my garden, and I never felt tired of them. This morning during my garden patrol, I touched one lavender branch while hours later, I still could smell that therapeutic aroma on my fingers. To me, it was a kind of happiness.

But my mume, the only mume plant I had, wasn’t that lucky. In middle January, I noticed some small flower buds set on the branches; I expected their beautiful blossoms in March. However, unfortunately, because of the past snowstorm and weeks of extremely cold weather, this morning when I finally could access to my mume, I found that its buds seemed to have died. This year, very likely I will get no mume flowers to watch. What a pity! It is one of the flowers which I long for the most.

Last week, during our trip to buy farm eggs from a local grill supply store, my husband and I went to a greenhouse and purchased a sinensis plant. This is my third tea plant, still in the nursery pot. I plan to plant it in March, but the problem is, I haven’t found a spot for it yet—it likes a bit shady but needs sun; it grows well in humid soil but hates being wet-footed. Let’s see, perhaps there will be casualties of this tough winter: My gardenia? Or my camellia parvilimba? Or my osmanthus? None of the three looked well to me.

I can foresee there will be plenty of garden work to do once the weather warms up; digging and shoveling will become normal. I have a lot of plans; I look forward to the fulfilment of them; I am well prepared.