I promised myself I wasn’t going to harp on the weather this week. I promised. Pinky promised. Woke up with that intention clear in my mind. Then, I saw the serviceberry (Amelanchier × lamarckii) in full bloom (below) and thought to myself “Well! I’ll need to touch on our Spring Blooms guide story that highlights Where the Shadbush Blooms.” And suddenly, here I am, still obsessing over the unseasonably warm weather.

To appreciate the shadbush (also known as serviceberry) reference, I need to start hyping up the Spring Blooms Guide Booklet. If you don’t have one in your pocket, at your desk, or somewhere within arm’s reach, please nab one from our friends in Guest Experience. It’s a charming little pamphlet packed with stories highlighting vernal traditions from around the globe. Where the Shadbush Blooms follows a Lenape family’s relationship with the seasons. These little white flowers transport me into that story every time I see them. I also enjoy the activity in the back that reminds me to slow down and use my senses to enjoy this season instead of bulldozing my way across campus because I’m late for a meeting or (GASP!) mislabeled a plant.

I shouldn’t be surprised by what’s blooming today at this point. But, after 10 years of scrutinizing the spring progression each week, your sense of time normalizes to its rhythm. It’s predictably paced and feels like an old song that you forgot existed until you find yourself singing every word and wailing on your air guitar when it comes on in the grocery store. As I walked up to the IMA building yesterday, those serviceberry blooms wrenched me into a moment that weakened my grip on where I stood in time and place. I experienced it again as I watched a swallowtail butterfly flit through the planting at Glick Fountain, an almost perfect color echo to the blooming tulips (Tulipa ‘Sunny Prince’, below). Had I lost weeks of my life to a bout of amnesia? How is it mid-April already? Is it still March?! Mother Nature is just playing this trick and having a good laugh as she watches me try to regain my footing.

That was a long, winding lament to get to the announcement you’ve been waiting for. Thank you for letting me get it out of my system. Without further ado…

WE ARE IN PEAK SPRING BLOOMS. I’m not sure how much louder I can shout it. We have about two weeks of heart-stopping bulb displays.

We’re seeing the last push of daffodils and hyacinths colliding with the start of the tulip blooms, creating a long-awaited kaleidoscope of color (above, Tulipa ‘Orca’ and Narcissus ‘Brackenhurst’).

The River of Bulbs (below) along the Allée looks better than ever this season. Some thoughtful care tweaks by our Grounds Manager, John Barbaglia, made a huge difference.

Curator of Herbaceous Plants and Seasonal Garden Design Irvin Etienne’s front entry planting (below) is screaming at the top of its lungs. Its tulips (Tulipa ‘Madame Lefeber’, T. ‘Orange Emperor’, T. ‘Yellow Emperor’) glow like a Vegas-sized neon sign announcing the arrival of the most gorgeous weeks in The Garden.

Vivid colors splash through The Garden, crafting a siren song compelling us to follow and explore what other treasures are just around the next bend.

Jewel-toned bulbs glisten at the back of the Katharine B. Sutphin Border Garden

And this means that the horticulture staff and volunteers are busy. So busy. They’re gingerly placing their feet among the displays to avoid knocking any precious buds off as they work to get 50,000 annuals tucked into their new homes (below).

We’ll talk more about these additions in the upcoming weeks since they’ll be doing a lot of heavy lifting to carry these displays through to Mother’s Day.

Don’t miss Senior Horticulturist Katie Booth’s planting (below) in the Horticultural Society Overlook Garden while two different double daffodils (Narcissus ‘Pom Pom Rose’ and N. ‘Replete’) add texture to this pastel dreamscape. It feels like accepting your nostalgic love for an old-fashioned pink-tile bathroom. In fact, I’m pretty sure my grandmother had a doll with a crocheted dress roughly the color of these Icelandic poppies (Papaver nudicaule ‘Champagne Bubbles Pink’) perched next to her decorative shell-shaped soaps. (The skirt of said doll’s dress was obscuring the extra toilet roll because a visible bathroom necessity is simply uncouth!)

Horticulturist Leah Coughlin’s geometric planting at the R.D. Wood Formal Garden fountain is an orange and pink delight (below). A mixture of tulips (Tulipa ‘Shogun’ and T. ‘Verona Sunrise’), daffodils (Narcissus ‘Ferris Wheel’), hyacinths, and pansies (Viola × wittrockiana Matrix® Sangria) create a complex weave of contrasting color and texture that make me swoon.

I will be telling my friends and family to run, not walk, and get here in the next two weeks before the tulips are finished for the year. Bring an umbrella. The overcast skies will make for fabulous photography.

DO NOT DILLY DALLY! The bulbs aren’t beholden to our human timelines. They’re following the temperatures of this season. Once they’ve spent their energy they’ll disappear, leaving us to wait, craving more, until next Spring Blooms.

Warmest Wishes,

Jaime Frye