A Coastal Alabama Garden: February Spring

I was a February baby. Being born in the February of the South is not the same thing as being born in the February of some northern clime, but it's still technically late winter. Camellias bloom and the earliest spring growth emerges, but there can be a decided nip in the air. It's not-quite-spring.

This February, we've have record-breaking heat. Highs near or actually in the 80s. It's also been fairly humid. (Not summertime humidity, of course, but muggy enough to make things a little less comfortable.)

The plants are confused. "Feels like spring to me!" they say-- and up they pop, refreshed and buoyant after their winter nap. No sense in dilly-dallying; if it feels like spring, it's time to grow! Careless things, never sparing a thought for the fact that it's too early, by the calendar's reckoning.

Personally, I'm a little miffed. I don't mind a warm day or two, but this is ridiculous. February is my month (well, mine and a bunch of other people's who happen to have been born in the shortest-- and therefore obviously most special-- month of the year), and I want it to feel like (coastal Alabama's version of) February, darn it! Highs should be the mid 60s (which is where our nightly lows are, lately)! Nights should still be chilly! And... I need more time to mulch!!! The plants have already started growing like crazy and I've barely scratched the surface of the necessary winter clean-up and mulching! (Someone fetch the fainting couch, please!)

. . .A few deep breaths later. . .

Okay. Spring's kinda-sorta here. (Already. ~grumpy mumble~)
We just have to make the best of it.

Some people would pay good money for weather like this in February. (Let's pause a moment to revel in the knowledge that we have something someone else wants... Eh, it's not really helping.)

So what if the wasps and carpenter bees are already out and about? Who cares if I keep seeing "our" garter snake here and there around the yard, which makes me nervous that less friendly snakes may also be on the move?

The only problem will be if the weather takes an arctic plunge now that many plants have invested so much energy into tender, vulnerable new growth-- but even if so, there's nothing I can do about it (except scramble to cover as many of the favorites as possible). Breathe in; breathe out; accept the fact that you're utterly and completely powerless, at the mercy of the whims of capricious Mother Nature.

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While we wait for March (when "seasonal temperatures" are predicted to return), here are a handful of photos from around the yard. Some are familiar faces from previous springs recorded on this blog.