The holidays are arriving with their glitter and glam but there is one thing about this time of the year that I just don’t enjoy.
Saying goodnight to my garden for the season.
Yes, a great garden will and should have “year-round” interest. Stately boxwoods that catch the snow and add some architecture, red winterberries that contrast beautifully with the all-white surroundings and add splashes of color where there is a great void. Even birds add color and activity to a garden during the long, cold months. Between you and me, though, I’m just not a bird person and I don’t have any winterberries.
I’m working my way up to being a year-round gardener. Right now, I’m a three-season one.
Because of the storms this fall, I’m still in the midst of cutting plants down, raking out beds, planting bulbs and tucking my little ones in for the long night. It’s quite the race at this point, as the other day when I was planting the last of the spring bulbs, it started to snow. “Get in that bed!”, I say as if talking to one of my daughters at bedtime.
Part of me knows that, with patience, a gorgeous flurry of plants will start to greet me in about five months. But that’s just so far away! Toddler-foot-stomp inserted here.
The garden, not long ago teeming with yellows, oranges, purples and greens, is now gray and brown. Stalks that reach up like skeletal bones stick up at odd angles in the beds. Birds pick at the remnants of seed pods, like old men hovering over a buffet that is about to be cleared.
I know that this winter, my bulbs and plants will be nestled in the garden, snug as bugs in a rug, and I often will look out into that space and think about what will appear in the early spring. That’s the wonderful thing about a garden. It’s always evolving and there is always something to look forward to. Months and months of glory.
But for now, all is becoming quiet. Time to funnel energies to other places.
Where’s my glue gun and that glitter?