Wednesday Vignette: Winter Blues

Moroccan Sea Holly, Eryngium variifolium, seed heads and Anigozanthos flavidus covered in frost

Moroccan Sea Holly, Eryngium variifolium, seed heads and Anigozanthos flavidus covered in frost

As my garden enters winter dormancy, I find myself downshifting with it. In December, my interminable giddiness at life enters hibernation and I console myself that it will return with spring. My sunniness no longer fills rooms and coaxes strangers into laughter. My noisy introverted nature turns silent. I read, research, build classes, sift through the debris of my busy growing season and prepare for the coming year.

Outside, my garden trees and shrubs are busy growing new roots and expanding. Winter is an important time to grow and prepare for spring. A cold quiet season is necessary for both the garden and my soul.

Photographing Snow

Mahonia x media 'Charity' bloom 

Mahonia x media 'Charity' bloom 

Yesterday morning, I found myself standing outside photographing snow. It was falling all around me in huge lazy flakes. The Crony Brothers watched me through their front window while sipping out of coffee cups. I was squatting in the slushy snow with my lens aimed at a flower, holding my breath, squeezing the camera button and then exhaling as I stood. Over and over again.

Being a garden blogger is a crazy thing, if you’d ask my neighbors.  But for me, it is pure joy. 

Savoy cabbage in snow 

Savoy cabbage in snow 

I started this blog as a place to practice writing and putting my neck out.  And four years later, my life is so much bigger. I’m teaching gardening courses through the community education department at Clark College. I recently wrapped up my busiest garden season of teaching, volunteering, and garden projects. 

The alpine strawberries have been blooming like crazy. 

The alpine strawberries have been blooming like crazy. 

I find myself surrounded by the most remarkable people; breathtakingly beautiful wise people that teach me so much everyday. Today, I researched cucumber mosaic virus with a fellow mg volunteer that filled my ears with her stories of world travels and a rough year filled with loss and a stroke.  We’re all in this together.

 

And I’m so thankful for you. Thank you for being here. 

Meadow rue seedheads

Meadow rue seedheads

A lone echinacea 

A lone echinacea 

Wednesday Vignette: Toadstool

This damp October broke monthly rainfall records when we reached 8.11 inches of rain with only 2 days without rainfall. The summer drought is long forgotten and the garden is abloom with fungus. Toadstools and mushrooms adorn the garden soil, fence line, and the fir tree bark.

Please visit my blogger buddy, Anna at Flutter and Hum, to see the rest of the Wednesday Vignettes.