There is no question that this past winter has been a rough one, no matter what part of Virginia (or many other places for that matter) you live in.  Even here in normally temperate Norfolk we had more snow and more prolonged cold than I can remember.  Thankfully a corner seems to have been turned this past week, and local gardens are slowly waking up.  Crocus and narcissus are blooming, some of the early flowering trees are budding and the forsythia is beginning to flash yellow.  However, the Queen of local gardens and sure sign that winter's days are numbered, has shown her face in the form of Camellia japonica.

Southeastern Virginia is the furthest place north that these gems can grow and still reach their full potential.  Yes I know they will grow in Richmond or even Washington, but not without careful site and cultivar consideration, and even then they will never get to be the shed-sized giants a venerable specimen will here.  In my own neighborhood (where these pictures were taken) there are many fine old specimens, some in lovingly tended gardens and others neglected for years, but thriving nonetheless. 

Most varieties of Camellia japonica are hardy to zone 7b or higher, but there are several that can take it colder.  Their preferred location is in partial shade.  The light under high pines is ideal, as well as the acidified soil found there as well.  They will not be happy in wet soils, preferring even moisture with good drainage, and once established are surprisingly drought tolerant.  There are few serious diseases that affect them, though spider mites and scale can sometimes be a problem, but are easily treated.

One of the best collections of Camellias in the country can be found at the Norfolk Botanical Gardens, which is home to the Hofheimer Camellia Garden.  It is a great place to visit, at any time of the year, but especially now while the Queen is holding court.

Yesterday on the way home from work, I passed by Waterside in downtown Norfolk.  In front of the parking garage is a huge swath of Winter Jasmine (Jasminum nudiflorum) doing its best to make an ugly building less so.  This time of year I look for its flowers as my signal that the end of winter is near.  Though late in blooming, they are a welcome sight nonetheless.

The city of Norfolk uses this plant in many municipal plantings, and I am thankful for it.  Just when you need a bolt of bright yellow change in the landscape, Winter Jasmine steps up.  Can Daffodils and Forsythia be far behind?

Winter Jasmine is a low sprawling shrub with green-in-any-season, long arching branches.  It gets about 3-4' tall by 5-6' wide, and can be pruned immediately after flowering if needed.  It prefers full sun, but will grow in some shade, only with fewer flowers.  It is hardy from zones 6-10 and appreciates good drainage, and in fact is quite drought tolerant once established. 

Native to China, this plant was first brought to Western gardens by Robert Fortune, one of history's most interesting plant explores.  At a time when much of China was closed to Westerners, Fortune disguised himself as a Mandarin merchant and would travel into forbidden areas in search of new finds.  We can thank Mr. Fortune for scores of our most cherished garden plants; Wikipedia has a detailed list of all the species he introduced.

It seems my favorite patch of Winter Jasmine was correct in predicting the eventual demise of winter, for today the temperature actually climbed into the seventies.  Since I was off today, I was able to spend the whole day outside doing my best to clear, clean and prune away this long cold winter.

I have many shrubs on my favorite list, but Edgeworthia chrysantha (Paper Bush, Rice Paper Plant) is at the top.  I think I am so attracted to it because it usually blooms in February, my least favorite and longest month of the year.  Edgeworthia is in the Daphne family whose members are notorious for their difficulty to grow.  However, this plant belies that reputation, but still has a sweet fragrance that many Daphne relations possess.  In the fall of the year Edgeworthia begins to lose its thin green leaves that have a somewhat tropical look to them, turning a buttery yellow before they drop.  In December the buds begin forming and are attractive in their own right being fuzzy and sliver, hanging upside down from the bare branches.  Usually in mid-winter, these buds begin swelling and open to reveal a cluster of golden yellow flowers that to me smell like sweet daffodils.  As the flowers mature the cluster becomes more upright and rounded making them easy to see, but your nose will find them before your eyes.

Edgeworthia is hardy in zones 7 to 8, but if protected may be able to withstand the warmer parts of zone 6.  It can get 6' tall and wide and usually has a multi-stemmed habit, but the finest specimens I have seen were trained with a single trunk.  However, they tend to sucker so occasional pruning may be necessary to keep that shape.  Like other members of the Daphne family, Edgeworthia prefers light shade or filtered sun in moist soil.  Good drainage is critical.  Plant one and just maybe you too will find something to look forward to in February.