This is winter jasmine on the Swarthmore College campus yesterday. Even this lovely place looks dreary in mud season. Besides the jasmine, we did see a few crocuses, snowdrops, hellebores and attractive containers planted with evergreens. They were a comforting sight after a provocative, alarming and to me, somewhat depressing, lecture by Peter Raven. He's the 2009 recipient of the Scott Medal, an annual prize, along with $12,000, that's awarded by the college's Scott Arboretum to "heroes of the planet." As head of the Missouri Botanical Garden for almost four decades, Raven's passionate cause is to preserve endangered plants and from the sound of it, he was a strong voice for sustainability long before it became every PR person's buzz word. He truly was inspiring. His C.V. is so long, I can't begin to replicate it here, but he was honored yesterday as all medal winners are, for "promoting a greater love of nature...and for spreading the gospel of better planting and design." In the big world out there, he's a champion of biodiversity and plant conservation, and he sounds a rational alarm against needless development, overconsumption and ignorance. I loved how he put this. Biodiversity, he said, "depends on what each of us does, every choice, every day, every place, every one of us." Taking care of this earth is everyone's responsibility, not some obtuse intellectual construct, and it extends right down to what we plant in our back yards, how we live our lives, how big a carbon footprint we leave and how much stuff we buy. Raven ended with a quote from Gandhi that brought a sobered audience to its feet: "The world provides enough to satisfy every man's need but not every man's greed." You can say that again. 

Nothing identifies you as a garden addict like familiarity with the Helleborus or Christmas rose, which in some places starts blooming around that holiday and stays fresh for months. Mine haven't popped yet, but not because I haven't been watching. Supposedly deer aren't fond of hellebores, but as any deer-weary gardener knows, they'll eat anything if they're hungry enough. I've come over to the hellebore fan club, having seen the incredible variety and beauty that's out there. They come in shades of pink, white, green, purple and even yellow, and now you can find them with spots, stripes, ruffles and flourishes. And while connoisseurs prefer their "faces" to be looking upward, there's something appealing about this shy, downward-facing clump.

Here's something fun: Fragrant viburnum. Not a fragrant viburnum, but the ... Viburnum farreri, on the grounds of the Barnes Foundation arboretum in Merion, where I tromped around for an hour or so this morning. Couldn't detect a fragrance yet, and the buds haven't exploded yet, but you get the idea. Today March was being very March-like. The temperature was about 51 degrees but it felt like 35. Not a heavy rain but a steady mist that covered me in chill. And mud, not so much that you couldn't walk comfortably, but bad enough that you had to wear boots. Is this the ugliest time of year or what? This viburnum, one I'd never heard of, was one of the few things blooming in Albert and Laura's old digs, along with masses of snowdrops (even they looked cold), a few crocuses, some winter jasmine and a patch or two of hellebores. With a list like that, you'd think the place was awash in flowers. Actually, spread over 12 acres, on a dark March morning, the blooms were few and far between. And so very welcome.  

As if the flower show, Daylight Savings and the weekend's balmy temperatures weren't enough of a clue that spring is on the way, here's something I found on a walk around my city neighborhood on Sunday. Snowdrops! Or more properly, Galanthus nivalis, the delicate white flowers with the wing-like petals that pop up every March. You can see vast stretches of these little beauties at places like Scott Arboretum, where I'm headed this Sunday for the gold medal lecture. But they're also fun in private pockets of the city and suburbs. This hasn't been a particularly long winter from a weather standpoint, but from every other vantage point, it's been a winter without end. (Even when spring comes, the economic winter will continue.) All this is made a little easier when we have snowdrops to enjoy.

It's not easy being a flower show. Everybody has two cents' worth of opinions, which they freely share. Some folks are a snap to please. Some are very picky. I'm sure you have at least 20 cents' worth of thoughts on this subject. I'll offer up some of mine here.

This is a wonderful show. I enjoyed it very much. It has broad appeal, which is the goal. It's fun for first-timers and the true-blue horticultural crowd. Some of the latter complained to me that the show includes too much show biz, what with the musical entertainment and Danny DeVito's appearance tomorrow; they think it's strayed too far from its roots. But guess what. There's plenty here for everyone, and I say that as someone who's been here for six whole days. I've talked to a lot of people at the show, in the cafeteria, waiting in line, waiting for a cab .... and many have told me they don't know much about gardening but now want to try or they just like seeing all the pretty stuff. There's nothing wrong with that. I've also talked to some very sophisticated gardeners who were excited about the competitive classes or some display. The show has to appeal to both constituencies to thrive. This it does very well.

I liked some of the edgier exhibits this year, several by floral designers rather than the big landscape firms or nurseries. I do enjoy the traditional treatments but this year I seemed to gravitate to the more unusual or surprising ones. From what I saw, I wasn't the only one seeking out something different. It was interesting to talk to some of the young designers, who said flower show folks encouraged them to be creative. That's good.

I liked the growing presence of green exhibits and information sources - green roofs, living walls, dry gardens, composting, native plants, rain gardens, bee-keeping, vermiculture (worm composting), herb gardening. I picked up several story ideas and things to do in my own garden, and it's a sign of the times that this component of the show is so well attended.

The show food was better. The horticultural society's "Flower Show Shoppe" is wonderful and always jammed and I continued my tradition of buying a botanically-themed necklace every year. The marketplace shopping, too, is always a high point. Saw a little more junky stuff and things unrelated to gardening this year than I remember from past years, but there was the same array of good-quality items for the garden, too, along with plenty of plants, cut flowers and those traditional pussy willows that symbolize spring for so many.

I attended several excellent lectures and culinary demonstrations. The best, for me, were the most practical. But as I write that, I realize that my number one favorite talk of the show was the last I attended, this afternoon - Stephen Scanniello, the rose expert, talking about his new book about how roses got their names. Stephen is someone I've written about already. I've visited his extraordinary garden in south Jersey and I'll be talking to him again soon for a story on rescuing antique roses, some from old cemeteries, and you know Philadelphia has a ton of these.

One thing in the gardening world always leads to another, and for me, as a gardener and a writer, the flower show is the one thing every year I can count on to lead to other things. Ciao.

The list of things I didn't like is much shorter than what I liked. These are my thoughts, along with ideas I got from speaking to lots of people at the show all week.

TOO DARK. Many people said they could hardly see the exhibits in parts of the show. Was it supposed to be more romantic that way? Is somebody saving on electric bills? It was difficult to take pictures or to see what some of the exhibits were about.

I was unable to find any representative from some of the major exhibitors to ask about plants and design. Burke Brothers was consistently the exception. This makes for a strange experience. The flower show shouldn't be a museum, where you file through in silence wondering what you're looking at. I like to talk to curators and artists in museums, too, about what they were thinking when they painted or chose a particular work. At the flower show, I think it's imperative to have someone there, if only to greet visitors and especially so visitors can ask questions. The students from Williamson, Saul, Temple Ambler and other schools were terrific at this: Always there and eager to engage. 

I also wanted information about the performers on the stage behind the Rome gardens. Who were they? What arias were they singing? What's the story behind the folk songs? The dancers explained what they were doing and it made a big difference to me. Also the stage is two-sided. When performers went to one side, people on the other side were shut out. One night as I watched, people went from one side to the other to see it all.

And speaking of entertainment ... just as some of the most enjoyable exhibits were a little more modern and provocative, I would've liked some entertainment with those same qualities as part of the mix. This show was very romantic and traditional - people seemed to love it - but perhaps there should have been room for another kind of artist, dancer or performer.

And no treatise on an event at the convention center would be complete without some comment about the center itself. Sigh. We're stuck with it. The elevators are ridiculously tiny - people in wheel chairs waited 20 minutes the other day. And the rest rooms - the ladies' rooms, I mean - clearly were designed by men who have no clue. I was in a line one day that had 25 women in it, all waiting outside a rest room on the main floor that had five stalls, no soap or towels. Today I found a women's bathroom at the end of the 500 row in the marketplace - large and more importantly, empty, with plenty of soap and towels. Bravo. Wish I'd found it earlier in the week.

 This is the end of my official duties at the 2009 flower show. I'm actually going tomorrow with my husband - as a civilian. Ciao!

I think next year's flower show ought to have more emphasis on vegetable gardens, which are the sleeper entries this year. If you float around exhibits like this one, you'll hear people talking about wanting to grow their own tomatoes and herbs, try composting and things (like collecting rainwater) that once were considered pretty far out. Vegetable gardening is in vogue again - it used to be huge - and seed sales are way up, a trend reflected in a special category this year called backyard gardens on a budget of $1,000. This entry - "My Back Yard Oasis" - was described as "frugal with a flair" by the judges, who like me think this category ought not be a onetime thing. "Budgetary restraint encourages creative solutions," they wrote. This tiny patch had a birdhouse with a green roof, a water barrel by the downspout, chickens in a shed, a nascent compost pile, a scarecrow and enough lettruce, spinach and other seedlings to feed a small family for the summer.

Vegetables were also on the mind of Melinda Myers, author of "Small Space Gardening," who gave a talk this afternoon on "Flavorful landscapes." A former county extension agent, Melinda is a big fan of mixing vegetables, herbs and flowers in the garden no matter where it's sited. She thinks vegetables and herbs are every bit as beautiful as flowers! Imagine. And she suggests starting small with a little Swiss chard by the front door, along with nasturtiums, Brussels sprouts and parsley, which she likes to use for edging and in containers.

What about substituting 'Black lace' elderberry, a real stunner, for Japanese maple? It's the right size, has distinctive black foliage, pink flowers and fruit that either you or the birds can eat. She subs asparagus or fennel for amsonia - same feathery look and height - and strawberries for nonedible groundcovers. The lady has a point.

Once you get past the idea that vegetables belong in the back yard and flowers in the front, you'll start mixing them up with abandon. The look is a bit wilder, it may not suit everyone's sensibility, but it makes maximum use of a small space. And think of the grazing possibilities. Ciao!

Isn't this fun? This urn was a winner in its competitive class. It turned my head. Loved the succulents. They always look so alive, like tiny arms curled up or stretching every which way.  I also liked the many shades of green, from almost white to silver, kelly green to dark.The judges cited the design's imaginative use of sculpture. See the curly-haired guy in the middle? I have a couple of urns at home but no handsome heads. Last year I put huge geraniums in there, bright red, and it was very striking from the sidewalk. But sedums and sempervivums are so wonderful. You never have to water and they're very architectural. This urn also has lavender, pelargonium and artemisia, very textural and silvery. Nice. The judges called it "fun, whimsical" and "subtle, strong." I could go for some of that in my mild-mannered urns. I just need to find a gorgeous young thing to stick in the middle. Ciao!

Shannon Curley here. I'll be guest blogging today from the Flower Show.  I'm a senior at La Salle University and an intern for the Inquirer's Features Desk this semester. 

Walking around, I was impressed, of course, by so many of the artistic exhibits, but one in particular really stood out. There, sandwiched between exhibits channeling Rome, Venice, and Florence, was a South Philly backyard, right down to the wine bottle and two half-empty glasses sitting on the rustic wooden garden table and the scaled down reproduced Mario Lanza mural.

It wasn't until I maneuvered my way through the sizeable crowd that had gathered around the exhibit enthusiastically that I even realized that this was not an exhibit created by a professional company. Instead, I found two teenage girls handing out packets of seeds and informational fliers about the exhibit they and their high school classmates had created. The girls were from W.B. Saul High School of Agricultural Sciences in Roxborough.

They and about 60 of their classmates from three Agricultural classes joined forces to follow in a tradition of W.B. Saul participation in the Flower Show that goes back farther than senior Jane Gagliardi can remember.

"We follow the theme of the show, but we try to be unique," said Gagliardi. "If this is the Philadelphia Flower Show, why not show South Philly...South Philly Italian backyards?"

Each of the three classes was responsible for different aspects of the project. One class handled the landscape design, another the greenhouse management, and the final one took care of the construction.

Trying to stay as true to an authentic South Philly Italian garden as possible, the students incorporated a lot of herbs, like golden lemon and English thyme, rosemary and sage, and vegetables (tomatoes, lettuce, beans) into their garden. Some of the flowers they brought in from nurseries, but all of the vegetables the students grew on their own.

"I think they really did a good job representing a South Philadelphia garden," said Ann Spiegel, a South Philadelphia native who lives at 11th and Washington. "Honestly, this is one of the better exhibits."

Caio!