Good riddance to a grim winter. But although the daffodils are up and the blackbirds are gurgling, I dont want to forget it quite yet. My view from the kitchen window over paving and dormant beds to a pond and shrubs beyond is pleasant enough in a dynamic winter of sun, rain, frost and cloud. But through sodden, grey week after sodden, grey week, it hasnt really been cutting the mustard.

So I am on a mission to add some game-changing shots of colour quickly, before I am floated away on the spring tide. My first port of call for inspiration has been to Wisley, where I had a rummage for early camellias.

Under the Scots pine in the corner of my kitchen-view garden, I already have a young plant of Saint Ewe. Because the ground is rooty, it lives in a half-barrel containers are a good way of sidestepping the problem of dry shade.

It has been out since early February and its single flowers of deep pink are cheery against the grey sky and nearby catkins of garrya. Another pink one across the pond would perk up the scene yet more. I found several candidates, both on Wisleys Battleston Hill and below the rock garden, and Bow Bells is my winner.

I take Kew with a pinch of salt, as it is much milder than here. Would Edgeworthia chrysantha, with its scrumptiously scented yellow clusters of flower, ever make a fat shrub for me? It might be worth a go if I could ever find a sheltered, south-facing spot for it. But itwas towards a more pedestrian plant that I gravitated yellow-stemmed willow, grown as a coppiced shrub by a lake. I wouldnt mind taking the mandarin ducks along with it.

The clustering of red, orange and yellow willows and dogwoods, such as you see in many winter gardens, is too cartoonlike for me. But a solitary stand of yellow glowing through the gloom, as at Kew, would be just the ticket fast-growing too and on my way back north I stopped at Ashwood Nurseries to scoop up one called Golden Ness. It is already installed by the pond, and by next year it will have a drift of February Gold daffs around its amber stems.

Talking of daffodils, I have made a note to have more Cragford next year. This white, orange-centred narcissus (with a delicious scent) has been flowering in pots by my front steps since January, taking the storms in its stride. The potted crocus and little iris I have in my kitchen-view garden are pretty enough, but for impact Cragford is the business.

My third garden visit has been to Borde Hill in Sussex. There is a chirpy winter grouping near the house, of pink Daphne bholua, lilac Rhododendron Praecox, plum hellebores and the mauve creeping toothwortCardamine pentaphylla. I have been wondering about planting another Daphne bholua after seeing the newdark pink variety, Mary Rose, on Pan-Global Plantss Instagram page; teaming it up with this rhododendron would be striking.

Borde Hills tree magnolias have also fired me up. Obviously, garden space and human longevity are against me when it comes to echoingtheir giant specimens of M. campbellii and M. sprengeri var. diva which are now filling the sky with clouds of pink waterlilies. But nowadays there are many selections available, bred to bloom young and stay compact and with equally large flowers. As it happened, themagnolia expert Jim Gardiner was at Borde Hill while I was there, and I was able to corner him and ask which of all these mouth-watering choices he rated the best. Without hesitation, he named Felix Jury. My order has just gone off, and I must now urgently create room for it I am not sure how.

If long grey, wet winters are to be the norm, they do not have to be endured with glum stoicism. Spark up the colour and pump out the scent. Plan for winter. Spring looks after itself, plantswoman Margery Fish once wrote and if it wasnt her it was someone else.

Continued here:
Five plants to brighten up grey days with a shot of colour - Telegraph.co.uk