A cold interrupted my writing last month – such an inconvenience – taking medication to help ease the discomfort made me much sleepier than I realized and I found myself waking up with fingers resting on keys and creating many lines of repetitive random letters. I decided to give in and rest. One of these days, I’ll learn to quit fighting the inevitable.
The garden looks much different today after more cold, lots of water, and more wind. It is rather like winter! But this gives me a chance to get some inside projects done and time to sit at the window with my tea and contemplate spring. Outside I can see buds forming on Daphne odora. A hummingbird has been visiting the Sarcococca, so even though I can’t see the blossoms, they must be open. Viburnum ‘Dawn’ has big, pink buds and hellebore buds are showing here and there on stems only about three inches above ground. Some of the trees are beautiful in their nudity. I love looking at the different branching patterns and texture and color of the bark. The Coral Bark Japanese maple is very colorful this year. This tree beckons happy memories of special times that warm my heart. I also enjoy sitting inside and planning some pruning for next month.
I’ve been spending some time looking at pictures of the garden taken in spring and summer of years past and trying to gain some perspective of just how long winter really lasts. Then, I look at my calendar to see what was going on thirty days past. On the eleventh of December, I had a wonderful time at Borders Books listening to readings by Barbara Ashmun and several other authors - and it seems like it was only yesterday! I found pictures of hellebore blossoms taken in 2004 on February eleventh – that’s only thirty days away! It will still be winter, but what a difference only thirty days will make!
When it is so cold, it seems as though winter lasts at least twice as long as spring and summer combined. Just a few years ago, I would not let the cold weather keep me from the garden, but now my aging circulation system makes it unbearable to be outside when the temperatures drop below about forty-five degrees. I can’t ignore numb finger tips anymore. I know that not getting it all done “on time” – whatever that used to mean – no longer matters and now I realize that at my age, I shouldn’t be wishing time away, but enjoying each moment. Now, where did I leave that cup of tea? J
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