T.S. Eliot proclaimed April as the cruelest month, but here in Indiana, I say February is the ugliest.
That’s how I felt a couple of weeks ago driving from Indianapolis to Warsaw, Ind., and back. I drove along Ind. 13 and Ind. 15, a gray ribbon through the flatlands of east central Indiana.
On the warm, but overcast day, the landscape seemed bleak, broken only by farm houses, barns, main streets and nubs of last season’s crops in fields of suck-your-shoes-off mud. On the way back, the night was relatively clear and a full moon illuminated swaths of icy waters that remained from the big melt.
In March, though, the promise of beauty sprouts at the soil’s surface and in buds on branches.
As we clear away winter’s debris in the yard, we uncover hellebores (Helleborus) and snowdrops (Galanthus) blooming, the tips of daffodils and tulips breaking ground, all harbingers of the coming season.
At the Indianapolis Museum of Art, witch hazels signal the end of winter in the Garden for Everyone and in several plantings around Oldfields, including near the Formal Garden. As the yellow, orange or red flowers of witch hazels (Hamamelis) unfurl, they fill the air with fragrance.
Witch hazels are worthy of the home landscape, too. A large shrub, it does best in part sun to light shade where the soil stays moist, but not wet. Besides fragrant flowers, many witch hazels have beautiful fall color with yellow or orange-red leaves.
Here are some to consider:
Spring witch hazel (H. vernalis), a native shrub that gets up to 10 feet tall and does well in alkaline soil, including rocky areas.
‘Jelena’ (H. x intermedia) gets 15 tall and wide. Prized for its coppery flowers and orange fall color.
‘Wilsey Supreme’ (H. mollis), an upright, Chinese witch hazel that gets 10 feet tall and wide with yellow flowers, hairy leaves and yellow fall color.