What’s blooming this week

Jill Severn

We were crossing the street after lunch when we saw a venerable flowering cherry tree on the corner, just about to burst into bloom. One of my companions said, “When I see big flowering trees like that, I always feel so grateful to whoever planted them.”

She must be swimming in an ocean of gratitude right now, because flowering cherry trees are coming into bloom all around us.

Most people share her appreciation of them, and this year it seems as if some are downright obsessed. Is this some kind of communal post-pandemic giddiness, or has this always been true? At the University of Washington, there’s a live webcam on the trees in the quad, and this week TV news has had almost daily updates on their progress towards total pink glory, which is expected next week. Who stares at their screen watching pink blossoms open?

Let’s focus instead on the trees right here in front of our eyes.

There are many varieties of flowering cherries, ranging from white to screaming pink, with many shades in between. We all get to choose which we admire most. As you might already have guessed, I like the more delicate pinks rather than the most vivid.

There are also several other flowering trees and large shrubs in bloom right now. Star magnolia, for instance, is a big shrub or (if old enough) a small tree with fragrant white flowers. You’d be lucky to get close enough to smell one.

The “real” magnolias are just on the verge of full bloom. These are the trees with the many shades of pink or reddish flowers whose shape resembles tulips. Some people call them tulip trees – but there is disagreement about which specific varieties qualify for that moniker. The important point about magnolias is that they are take-your-breath-away beautiful when in full bloom – and you’d better look fast, because their flowers don’t last long. All those petals will soon be on the ground, where they make a gorgeous mess.

(There is also a broad-leafed evergreen magnolia that blooms in early summer. There are several varieties, but only one I’ve seen around here.)

If you see a bright yellow shrub or hedge in bloom, it is forsythia – a tough, easy to grow, and long-lived plant. Many an early spring bouquet has come from cutting its branches when they are just budding; in a warm room, they’ll bloom readily.

It’s too late for that now, since forsythias are already in bloom. But flowering quince will do the same thing, and it’s just now budding. This is a plant it’s just about impossible to kill. There’s a growing patch of it in a nearby vacant lot, and more in my back yard. I dug the one in my yard up and moved it so it would get a bit more sun. It blooms more in its new spot, but it also continues to come up in its old location even after five years of being cut back to the ground every summer. (There are also quince trees that produces a supremely sour fruit that someone, somewhere must like. They are fortunately pretty rare.)

Early rhododendrons are blooming too, but everyone already knows all about them, right? There is probably no ornamental plant more common in northwest gardens, and none with more varieties, colors, shapes and sizes. And there will be a succession of varieties of rhododendrons (and azaleas, their smaller cousins) in bloom from now through June, and a few that bloom even later.

There are also lots of smaller early bloomers:  Hellebores have been at it for a month already, and are still going strong. Daffodils are in mid-season form. Little grape hyacinths are begging to be picked and turned into posies.

In the woods, trilliums and oso berries are already in bloom along the bluff at the north end of Squaxin Park, and the first sockeye-colored salmonberry flowers are out. In both woods and yards, flowering currants – also sort of salmon-colored – are blooming too. And yellow skunk cabbage is blooming in the muck. It felt like a long wait for it this year.

Of course this is only a sampling of what’s in bloom right now, and so much more is on the way.

Spring’s surge of flowering reawakens both plants and people. Yet as the days get longer, they go by faster. We’d best look around, and enjoy each one thoroughly.

Then we might wade into that ocean of gratitude to the people who planted the trees, shrubs and flowers that delight us. And we might wonder: Will anyone will be similarly grateful to us?

Jill Severn writes from her home in Olympia, where she grows vegetables, flowers, and a small flock of chickens. She loves conversation among gardeners. Start one by emailing her at  jill@theJOLTnews.com