Seasonal Notes - March 2026

I’m sorry to say that the dreadful wet weather and high winds continued into March with only the occasional burst of sunshine (usually when I was elsewhere!). That said, I was pleased at least to make a start on a slightly more creative project than simply clearing leaves, namely to improve a woodland border by the side of the main lawn which had got all weedy and unattractive. I went to B&Q on a rare sunny day and enthusiastically bought some well-priced and pretty hellebores of various varieties, together with some blue wood anemones and a white periwinkle. It’s not the easiest border to cultivate because there are lots of old tree roots there from a large conifer we cut down years ago - and there is always inevitably an impenetrable root just where you want to place your plant. So it requires patience and adaptation to plant up but I was happy with the result in the end. There is a young white lilac tree in the centre which I sourced at a local plant fair a few years ago and from which the plants spread out. The snowdrops are quite abundant here too and were in their prime, as well as some snakehead fritillaries, so it was all quite pleasing.

Ready for planting (except for the loo paper!)

Just up from this border is the big old sycamore with a huge hole in its trunk which is usually occupied by giant fungus and/or a crows nest. The bark has thickened and circled around the hole and consecutive tree surgeons have all told me it’s solid - possibly strong thanks to the thickening that it would be without the hole. I shouldn’t speak too soon but it’s certainly been put to the test frequently enough with the gales we get up here on this exposed Peak District hillside at 1,000ft above sea level. At the base of this tree, whose roots create an attractive green mound at the edge of the lawn, is where a clutch of crocuses hang out between the tree roots. I planted some more in the grass last autumn which I doubt will flower this year, but hopefully next, if the squirrels don’t get them first. They were looking exquisite in the weak spring sunshine, turning their pretty purple heads to the light. The first bee I’ve seen this year was foraging sleepily, possibly just woken up from his winter hibernation, unwittingly gathering yellow pollen on his tiny back and legs as he did so. Such a delight to see, and another wonder of nature. 

The hellebores are also stealing the show around and about the garden, tucked into different borders and corners. I adore the huge variety of their forms as well as their muted colour palette from whites to greens to pink, purple and ruby hues. A real joy at this time of year. 

I’ve also planted up a drystone wall with primulas to add to the saxifrage and other bits and bobs which are already there. It adds a welcome bit of cheer across from the compost heap and frames the view into the fields and footpaths beyond. 

I also finally got round to potting up a bag of mixed tulips from Morrisons! Not being sure how they’d turn out, I put them up in the vegetable garden hoping they’ll add a welcome touch of colour as spring progresses, noting as I placed it that the rhubarb is coming along nicely…

By mid March the daffodils are starting to come out in force both in the borders, at the edges of the lawns, around the sundial and up in the orchard. Who cannot smile at the sight of all that cheery yellow after the greyness of these winter months? Love it or loathe it, the forsythia, too, is brightening up the hedges. Gaudy it may be, but yellow undoubtedly brings hope to the heart. I’ve always tried to keep a good mix of different daffodils in the garden so that the yellow is punctuated with whites and oranges and flower heads of all different sizes and styles from big and blousy to dainty and double, there is something for all tastes. I even planted some wild daffodils, much less showy, in the hope that they’d naturalise and keep on accumulating. It’s been a slow process, I have to say, but I’ve noticed they’ve started to grow in numbers at last. Only another 100 years to go!

Narcissus pseudonarcissus (wild daffodils or ‘Lent Lily’)

Daffs and a touch of forsythia

And so, as March progresses, the garden starts to re-clothe itself after the relative bareness of winter. The skimmia are starting to come into flower, blue muscari are dotted around the borders, tulips are starting to rise and all is well with the world. Even the cyclamen, planted years and years ago, are finally creating a shot of dark pink on the top lawn. If there’s one thing a gardener needs, it is patience! But beware, once the sap starts to rise, and spring is truly under way, there is no stopping nature bursting forth almost daily with new delights and surprises. Oh, and lambing season is just about to start too up here. I can’t wait!

Yet despite all this anticipation of good things to come, nature always has something to say: and in March there was a day which had every season in 12 hours - snowstorm, hailstorm, rainstorm, sunshine on a rinse and repeat cycle. Just a quiet reminder of who’s ultimately in charge. What a wonderful world we live in!