Winter Won't Let Go

"Nature gives to every time and season some beauties of its own."

Charles Dickens

What a week it has been. Winter it seems just will not let go its hold on us. It's almost mid March and just when we think that spring might be on our doorstep, we are blasted with another hit of winter. Yesterday, it was rain, then wet, heavy snow and my children even had another "snow day" at home. With the extra rain and snow, it has meant flooding all around our town. We are all getting a little down with the weather these days and can only hope and pray for some sunshine, mild days and warm, warm weather. It doesn't help when our Kenyan son texts us from Nairobi telling us it is so, so, so, so, hot Mama. But still the fresh dusting of white covered up the muddy brown of spring's melt time.

And so we can only hope for spring by looking at our photos of our gardens in full bloom and perusing and picking our seeds and summer bulbs from the garden catalogues but when we will be able to plant, well your guess is as good as mine. So tonight with a light snow falling and mild temperatures, I'll grab a mug of tea and get back to my seed orders.

"And when the vines and stalks are empty, when the soil's been turned, and it is blowing into Winter, we sit with neighbours and compare. About who had the best luck with this year's garden. Outside, the garden's brown again. The crows are back. And we are, all of us, waiting . . . for next year's garden."

Cynthia Ryland, "This Year's Garden"

Today is one of those days that you just feel the need to have a little sunshine in your life. As I look out the window the sky is leaden grey and a light snowfall is gently drifting to the ground. Luckily it is still not cold enough for the snow to accumulate but rather it melts as it hits the earth.

It's hard to believe that it is the end of the first week in November already. Most to the garden chores have been done and the beds put to bed. The garden seems empty and dull with colourings of brown and green but the red rosehips and white snowberries add bright spots of colour. True to form, I still have tulip bulbs to plant. Hopefully we will have a slight reprieve this weekend and I can get them planted.

It seems like the time to sit back and relax but I know I must create next season's to-do list. Fix the fence, replace the lattice, redesign the front garden, divide the hosta, cut back the grapevines (do it earlier next spring because I got lots of foliage but no grapes this year)and build a waterfall for the big pond (that was on this year's to-do list but just didn't get done).

Some people like to think that gardening is an activity that can be "completed", if you can use that word. But a garden is a living, breathing, ever changing entity. Plants grow, or don't grow, and need to be moved and divided and we must always deal with Nature's blessings or her wrath. Our gardens thrive with plenty of sunshine and adequate rainfall or they suffer with cold or too hot temperatures and too much water but that is in fact the true beauty of gardening. No two seasons are the same and the garden is always in constant evolution.

But for today, I'll put the kettle on to make a cup of tea and dream of winter's depths when the land is covered with snow and as both the garden and I take a rest, I'll get my gardening fix getting caught up reading all about other people's gardening exploits.

Trading Garden for Cottage - The Nature of Nature

"A spell lies on the Garden. Summer sits. With her finger on her lips as if she heard the steps of Autumn echo on the hill."

Getrude Huntington McGiffert, writer

After a hectic July of garden projects, chores and weeding, all in preparation for the garden tour, it was time to take a much needed break from the garden and so we ventured over to Haliburton for our week at the family cottage. It was here that I traded my garden tools and wheelbarrow in for a canoe and paddle. Up early one morning, as the mist began to rise off the still, calm surface of the lake, I slipped the canoe into the water and paddled on. From out on the lake I was able to view the shoreline and contemplate the beauty of nature.

The garden, although of nature, is a contrived setting, no matter how natural and informal we try to make it. Although we may select native plants and add rocks and other natural elements, we can never really make it appear as though it occurred naturally. From out on the water, looking back on the shore I saw nature in all its glory - trees that sprouted from fallen seeds, the understory plans of shrubs and small flowering plalnts co-existing happily. Along the shoreline, the sedges and bulrushes provide nesting areas for ducks and camauflauge for the great blue heron, standing still as a statue, amongst the cattails, hoping perhaps that I wouldn't notice him.

It's nearing the end of August and already the trees are just beginning to turn, the odd one giving hint that autumn will soon be upon us. It is in the fall that we are truly able to distinguish the great mix of our boreal forest, the warm colours of the changing deciduous in tone of yellow, orange, reds and burgundies, contrast to the cool shades of the coniferous trees creating a rich tapestry of nature. Sometimes in gardening I think we strive too hard to make things looks natural when all we really need to do is let nature take over and do its own thing. After all, the world existed before we did.

For me, Rudbeckia (above) are the perfect fall flower - bright and cheerful.