I can smell spring

Oh, the ecstasy of inhaling an elusive, delicate, marvelous scent that I can't quite place (or the familiarity of it makes me smile)...not wanting to stop inhaling for fear of losing the ephemeral waft of pleasure that barely fills my nose, but I want it to go on and on...this is the moment in the garden (or walking down the street, or driving in the car, or wandering through a seemingly still sleeping nursery or public garden) when my consciousness fairly erupts in joy...yes! Spring is near!

Something weird happened this winter.  Portland has a jillion microclimates, so some parts of the area did have freezes and snow and ice storms and floods, but where I garden, a low elevation semi urban area between slightly rolling hills, it was incredibly mild compared to the last several years...no significant deep freezes, no snow cover whatsoever, even very few frosts.  It was quite dry in December and January, as well.  So despite the mildness of winter, we are all commenting that the early flowers seem sleepy.  Surely some plants did not reach the chill factor they need to produce a robust entrance to the season.

So my daily trek, rain or shine for my olfactory fix in my own garden has so far been disappointing.  I'm getting impatient.   The osmanthus bloomed way back in November.  The viburnum 'New Dawn' has few buds and no blossoms.  The daffodils and hyacinths are barely out of the ground.  The buds on the prunus mume 'Kanko Bai' and the corylopsis spicata delight me, but alas have no scent.  I have rejected sarcocca, the flowers being insignificant in size, but I must rethink this...they are after all blooming elsewhere here,  perhaps a pot to two near the patio door?  I stand in the cut flower department of New Seasons, inhaling. The salespersons ask me if they can help...they can't...I just need to smell their flowers.  I've visited the Bishop's Garden at Elk Rock for my spring moment there to inhale the witch hazels and wintersweet and viburnum and edgeworthia...but even there, spring scents have been muted.  I will go to the big Yard Garden and Patio show this weekend at the convention center and revel in the scents "booted up" for the show to preview our coming events in the garden.  I will make lists of candidates to add to my early spring garden to avoid this vacuous moment next year.

I can smell Spring...but it has yet to fill my nose.