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Campanulas, columbines and credit card damage

© Lynda Jardinet

There's something about spring I just can't resist. It's not the warmer days and mild nights. It's got nothing to do with the fact that the garden's waking from its winter slumber. It's a much more physical change. The same magic that seduces the bulbs beneath the soil seems to speak to something deep within me. It whispers to me, quietly but persuasively, (usually when my partner Grant is just out of earshot). This inner voice shares neither the meaning of life nor the key to spiritual nirvana. Instead, it is calm and clear, with a plea both short and simple... "neeeeed new plantssss."

I'm the first to admit that I'm addicted to garden shopping. My hands shake at the mere sight of a new salvia. I've been known to drive for more than an hour to get that pretty new perennial, that alluring annual, that super little shrub I saw in the garden magazine. My deck is smothered with plants in their death throes, innocent victims of a purchasing passion that ignores the glaring "no vacancy" sign flashing above my garden gate. I am a woman possessed. And while I garden shop all year round, for some reason the affliction hits hardest in spring.

This year, campanulas have fared extremely well in my buying binges. In fact, if you were to visit right this minute, you'd find four healthy looking specimens still in their garden bag on the deck, waiting for a vacant bed. At least a dozen different campanulas - from small to tall - have been plonked into the flower garden already this month. I'm not quite sure what caused this sudden seasonal desire for bellflowers, but I bet several campanula growers in New Zealand are celebrating as their profits climb. Campanulas are charming plants, and if this Campanula glomerata is anything to go by, the garden's going to look great with its new inhabitants.

Last spring my passion was columbines. I just love aquilegia - they're the perfect plant. Their soft green leaves catch raindrops, their flowers are just delightful, and then there's the seed pods - standing proud like court jester hats for the rest of the season. They have a real romantic charm, both the demure doubles and the striking single flowered varieties. This one came from the farmhouse garden where I grew up. I sneaked back a few weeks ago to pinch as many as I could. Then of course, just to be on the safe side, I went out and bought a whole lot more as well.

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