Landscaping for Pollinators: Early Bloomers to Plant Now

Dear friend,

If you step outside and close your eyes these days, you might hear the faintest promise of spring in the rustle of the breeze. It’s subtle, sure—a bit of birdsong here, the whisper of thawing earth there. But it’s enough to raise my spirits as we approach the final stretch of winter. With this new season on our doorstep, I find myself reflecting on one of my favorite aspects of gardening: welcoming pollinators. Bees, butterflies, hummingbirds—they’re not just lovely to watch; they’re also the unsung heroes who ensure our fruit trees are pollinated, our vegetable flowers set fruit, and our ornamental blooms spread their charm. Today, I wanted to pen a letter about what we can plant right now—or at least plan to plant soon—that will give these important critters an early-season boost.

Pollinators, like many creatures, emerge in spring hungry and a bit disoriented after a winter lull. Bees in particular need nectar and pollen sources as soon as the weather warms enough for them to venture out. But if our gardens are still barren, they may struggle to find the resources they need. That’s where early-blooming plants become heroes. By providing a smorgasbord of early flowers, you’re helping these pollinators refuel and establish strong colonies, setting the stage for a robust garden ecosystem.

One of the earliest bloomers in our region is the humble crocus. These little bulbs can poke up through patches of snow in late February or early March, offering bright cups of nectar just when the bees need it. If you haven’t planted crocus bulbs yet, make a note for next fall—bulbs need to be planted in autumn for a spring show. However, if you have them already, or know someone looking to thin their patch and share bulbs, you might see them popping up any day now. The same goes for snowdrops and winter aconite—both small but mighty sources of nourishment for pollinators in chilly weather.

Moving on from bulbs, there are some native perennials and shrubs that bloom quite early. One of my personal favorites is the serviceberry (Amelanchier), a small tree or large shrub that puts out delicate white blossoms in early spring. Not only do bees and other insects love those blossoms, but the plant also produces small, edible berries that taste a bit like blueberries. I’ve spent many a late spring morning picking serviceberries to top my cereal. Another early standout is redbud (Cercis canadensis). While it typically blooms a bit later than the earliest bulbs, it’s still among the first trees to burst into color, with vibrant pink blossoms clinging directly to the branches before the leaves emerge. Pollinators adore those pea-like flowers, and the overall effect is downright enchanting against a backdrop of still-bare woods.

If you’re more focused on perennials or smaller plants, look for hellebores (also known as Lenten roses). They’re not native to the United States, but they handle our mountain climate well and can bloom as early as late winter, offering nodding, cup-shaped blooms in shades of white, pink, purple, and green. Bees will happily visit them on milder winter days. For a native perennial that can bloom relatively early, consider golden ragwort (Packera aurea). It produces bright yellow flowers in spring, and though it can spread if given the chance, it’s a cheery groundcover that supports local pollinators.

Another trick is to incorporate a variety of flowering shrubs that bloom in succession, starting in late winter and continuing through spring. Witch hazel is a remarkable shrub (or small tree) that can bloom in the dead of winter with spidery, fragrant yellow petals. While pollination occurs mostly by moths and flies, the sight of those blossoms can’t help but lift a gardener’s heart when so little else is in flower. By late winter or early spring, you might also see pussy willow catkins, which provide both pollen and nectar for bees. If you can spare a wet spot in your yard or have a rain garden area, a pussy willow can be a wonderful addition.

Now, it’s one thing to know about these early bloomers, and another to get them in the ground at the right time. For perennials and shrubs, you can often plant them as soon as the soil is workable—meaning it’s not frozen solid or saturated with meltwater. In some parts of the Blue Ridge, that might be early March. In other spots, you might wait until later in the month or even April. The key is to avoid compressing soggy soil or damaging delicate root systems. If you can scoop up a handful of soil and it sticks together in a wet clump, it might be best to wait a bit.

You might also be wondering about starting certain annuals that bloom earlier. While many annuals require warmer temperatures, there are some cool-season annuals—like pansies, violas, snapdragons, and sweet alyssum—that can handle a bit of chill. Pansies and violas, in particular, can brighten a pot or garden bed in late winter or early spring, offering a nectar source to any early pollinator that happens by. Sweet alyssum can also tolerate cooler conditions and has a lovely honey scent that bees adore. These are annuals you can start indoors or purchase as nursery seedlings and plant out once the worst freezes have passed.

Remember that pollinators need more than just flowers. They also benefit from having safe nesting sites and water sources. For native bees, leaving some bare patches of soil or old, hollow stems can provide nesting habitat. If you’re up for it, consider creating a small “bee hotel” by bundling hollow bamboo canes or drilling holes in a block of untreated wood. Place it in a sheltered spot, and you might get mason bees or leafcutter bees making their home there. A shallow birdbath or even a dish of water with stones for perches can be a lifesaver for thirsty insects, especially as the days grow warmer and drier.

Another factor is the use of pesticides. If you’re serious about supporting pollinators, it’s best to minimize or avoid chemical sprays. Early in the season, pollinators can be particularly vulnerable as they rebuild their populations. If you must tackle a pest issue, try organic or targeted methods first—like hand-picking insects, using insecticidal soaps or oils, or introducing beneficial predators (ladybugs or lacewings). The goal is to create a garden that’s alive with diversity, where good bugs help keep pest populations in check, and pollinators find a steady buffet of blooms.

One of the joys of landscaping for pollinators is that it not only benefits the insects—it also adds year-round interest to your yard. Imagine the delight of seeing bright crocuses in February, serviceberry blossoms in March, redbud blooms in April, followed by the cascade of later spring and summer flowers. It’s a tapestry of color and life that feeds the soul as much as it feeds the bees. Plus, as the pollinators do their work, your fruit trees, vegetables, and ornamental flowers will produce more abundantly. It’s a beautiful partnership, if you ask me.

Lastly, I encourage you to share the story of your pollinator-friendly efforts with your neighbors. When I was younger, folks around here didn’t talk about pollinator gardens the way we do now. But times have changed, and many people understand just how crucial bees, butterflies, and other pollinators are to our ecosystems. Sometimes all it takes is one garden full of early blooms to inspire the entire neighborhood. If you see a neighbor peering over the fence, curious about the new flowers you’ve planted, strike up a conversation. Swap seeds or cuttings. Build a little community around supporting the creatures that help our gardens flourish.

As the last winds of winter blow and you plan your early spring plantings, consider weaving in a few pollinator-friendly blooms that wake up with the season. Each flower you add becomes a beacon of nourishment, a small but vital lifeline for the bees, butterflies, and birds that make our gardens—and our world—so vibrant. There’s a quote I love that goes something like, “To plant a garden is to believe in tomorrow.” I’d add that to plant a pollinator garden is to believe in a healthier, more interconnected tomorrow, where we humans remember we’re just one thread in the grand tapestry of life.

Stay warm, stay hopeful, and get those early flowers in the ground as soon as it’s safe. I promise you, when you see the first honeybee lazily buzzing around a crocus bloom in the waning days of winter, your heart will sing with the renewal of the earth. And that, dear friend, is a feeling worth nurturing in every season.

With gratitude for all things that buzz and bloom,
Logan