Twin Oaks in March

Sunrise at Twin Oaks on one of several foggy mornings we had in March.

The early morning fog has a peaceful quality about it.

Another wet month meant that there was a lot of standing water around.  The ground simply can't absorb all the rain we have been getting.

On clearer mornings the sunrise first reaches the tops of the pines.

Suddenly, Twin Oaks is filled with numerous birds, their calls and songs echoing in the still leafless woods and across the open fields.  Squirrels are everywhere.  You can hear a few frogs on the warmer, wet nights.  In March things really start to come alive on our property and on the surrounding lands.  We are on the cusp of spring.

The flora of February transforms or fades.  Tulips and Irises explode with color.  Outside you can breathe that first faint sweetness in the air.  Late in the month, pollen becomes more pronounced.  The world is a live and pure once again.  The cycle of life is renewed.

This March was comparatively warm and wet like the previous two months of the year.  In keeping with the pattern for 2020, there were far more cloudy days than sunny ones.  We had a couple of intense thunderstorms but no damaging winds, thankfully.  

Most of the days of March were cloudy, just like February.  But at least now you can see some trees beginning to blossom.

Still, there were a few bright sunny days with just a few clouds.

Jennifer and I planted these Saw Tooth Oaks many years ago.  They are rather messy trees as they prepare to the leaf out.  Kudo roams the field underneath the trees.

These small flowering planets, sort of like a weedy grass, cover the ground everywhere grass is not growing in March.

Here is a closer look at their orchid-like blooms.

Tiny, highly invasive violets blossom all over our property as well.

March is the time for tulips.  Jennifer used to plant them all over the place but, in recent years, the deer have eaten most of them before they could bloom.  This year she planted them in pots close to the house and we had better success.

A closer look at the inside of a tulip blossom.  You can see the pollen awaiting bees and other insects to carry away.

Flowering quince.

Here is one of many hyacinths that bloomed in March.  They only last a short while.

We don't know the exactly name of these daffodils.  It's orange tip is distinctive and it blooms later than all the others.

Lots of Irises emerge in March.  These are backlit in the sun.

An iris in flower.

This is a type of Amonia that is native to Georgia.

A closer look.

The ice folly daffodils no longer flower in March.  Instead they grow even taller and droop under the weight of the rain.  They are surrounded by the little white amonia near the base of the loropetalum bush.

An anemone grows in only one place under an old tree on our property.  Though not prolific, they have slowly spread to cover a small piece of ground through the years.

A multitude of Johnny Jump Ups dot the grounds of Twin Oaks.

My mom gave Jennifer this plant many years ago.  We don't know the name of it.  Once again, a large part of flower gardening is the passage of plants from one generation to the next, an experience increasingly rare in the modern world.

Two cherry tree in full blossom in our lower field near the road. Facing north.

This photo was taken on the other end of our lower field, a space about an acre in size.  All the pine trees are volunteers.  This was an open cotton field when we bought the property back in 1993.  Facing south back toward the two cherry tree along our driveway.

An old flowering peach tree that we planted a long time ago.  It used to part of a flower bed.  Since then several trees have volunteered out of the mulch we used for the long-gone flower bed.  The flowering peach is "in decline" and has been for years.  I have trimmed it of several broken and dying branches in recent years.  But it still puts forth these beautiful white blooms.

This photo was take about a week later, when our only red bud tree bloomed.  It, too, is in decline and volunteered out of the mulch of the past flower bed that we had in this spot for several years.  Volunteer trees are usually heartier than the ones we have planted.  They require less maintenance and last longer.  The large trees behind them are also volunteers.  Back in the late 1990's this was all open space.  Selectively letting nature take her course is an form of gardening that I like best.

A honey bee buzzes around the flowering peach tree, taking in its natural sweetness.

Our most magnificent loropetalum bush beside our oldest cherry tree in our back yard.  Taken on one of the rare sunny days this March.  Facing east.

I tried to capture a photo this wonderful cherry several times during the month but the light was usually all wrong.  It was a bit past its prime in terms of blossoms when I took this late in the month.

Another angle of the cherry tree on a different, cloudy day.  I love how this lower branch meanders out into the yard.  It is a pain to mow around, however.

Another shot of our impressive loropetalum bush taken on a cloudy day.

A close-up of the bush.

The roots of the old twin oaks go deep into the ground, giving a feeling of solidity in these uncertain times.

Highlights: The first breath of sweetness in the air.  A lot of different flowers and shrubs bloom.  The woods become alive with squirrels and birds of all kinds.  Still a lot of clouds and rain.  Winter is giving way to spring at last.