Our Wonderful Winter Garden
Winter garden? can there be any such thing? In Ottawa, that northern capital which boasts it is able to endure cold and snow unlike many other capitals of the world? Does anyone ever really go out into their garden in winter? To have a look at what once was? Can anything really, truly be seen? Well, hardly. Everything is covered, month after month, with an unrelenting blanket of snow. And quite often that snow itself is covered over, with a slick of ice. What could possibly be seen in a garden at this time of year? Nothing much, actually.
On the other hand, we do have evergreens, don't we? Well, of course, and also deciduous trees. The former lovely to look upon at any time of year, the latter not much to offer in winter, other than some species' beautiful exfoliating bark. Let's face it, who in their right minds would want to be out there wandering about at this time of year in any garden? Not many, myself included. The joy of gardening, of potential, of possibilities, of colour, of form, of texture, of fragrance, it's all missing.
One looks out onto the garden from inside the house, wistfully. Spring will come. Eventually. And then, and then, things will bloom. All those bulbs one worked to deliver into the fall-waiting garden, they will feel the warmth of the sun on the soil, and come to ecstatic life, gifting us with their desire to show off their glowing colours, reminding us that summer will follow and with it warmth, inviting us into our gardens for months upon months of coddling perennials, annuals into glowing gardens of pleasure to satisfy our winter-deprived aesthetic.
The snow is beautiful in and of itself. It falls regally, gladdening our hearts in quite another way. We can disport ourselves in snow-covered landscapes, gliding over the snow in skis, snowshoes, skating our long canals of icy adventure. We are, after all, Canadians. To avert our eyes, our intentions from making the most of winter recreational opportunities is to painfully trudge through winter, is to despise what nature has gifted us with in this season.
And look! the garden becomes something entirely else. It is beautiful, it can take one's breath away to see the long pine, spruce, fir branches emblazoned, embroidered in winter white, a thick layer of fresh-fallen, fluffy snow. Adhering lovingly to the branches of hardwoods, softly sifting onto bushes whose bold branches can still be seen rising above the snowpack, layer upon layer.
True, we don't feel invited to linger overlong in the cold, observing this arras. Snow-laden benches do not entice our bottoms to descend upon them for the purpose of contemplating yet again this further evidence of nature's benign intervention in our lives. But what pleasure we derive from this brief and fleeting and most appreciative of inventories. Our winter garden.
posted by Pieface @ Saturday, January 21, 2006
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