January on My Mind

I'm partied out and broke. January is dreary with drab, damp days and monochromatic scenery. Spindly tree limbs form tangled masses on the horizon. Sunsets are fierce with battered skies. Only an occasional day opens blue, with sharp edges.I want to garden, but cold winds blow away the joy. A good book, a warm drink, and a comfy seat near the fireplace have greater pull, and I have no desire to venture outdoors.

But after a while I must. 

Only to find tragedy. Outside the kitchen door are mockingbird feathers, scattered across the patio. I look around for the familiar mockingbird who guarded this territory, who established a nest in the weeping yaupon tree next to the patio last year. I don't see him. Mercifully, the body is gone. Was it a neighbor's cat, or possibly the Red-shouldered hawk? I would feel better if it were the hawk.A hawk searches for a meal.

This weeping yaupon holly grows outside our kitchen. Mockingbirds love the berries.Still saddened I look around for something to brighten my spirits. I don't have to look far. Below the weeping yaupon tree, the hellebores are beginning to bloom. There are several varieties growing here, and they have intermingled and self-seeded to produce nameless, illegitimate offspring. I don't care. I think they are lovely.

As I walk in the garden I find other spots of color. The winter daphne is budding and has opened one tiny flower. I grow this beautiful, sweet smelling plant in a pot to ensure good drainage. Clay soil and long rainy days would spell death to it otherwise. An ornamental cabbage, above left, also catches my interest, as does the remains of a bright seedpod on a gardenia bush. There are quite a few of these orange and yellow pods on the gardenia bush in the woodlands.

 And then I find this odd rock:

I love rocks! I love the permanence of them; I love their varied textures and patterns and colors. Here are some more rocks in my garden, each with holes and a story to tell, if I knew it.

First, a white one:

A yellow one:

And an orange one:

Now I'm on a roll, taking picture after picture of rocks, and I'm enjoying myself.
At last I turn back toward the house, again to see mockingbird feathers near the kitchen door. The fleeting life of a mockingbird; the solid rocks that will be here long years from now. But the holes remind me that even rocks are not eternal, for eventually they too are turned to dust. I sigh. January is getting to me. It's time to go inside and fix myself a cup of cappuccino with my new cappuccino machine!

The Underworld of Hellebores

In the fifth century BC, the Greeks laid siege to the city of Kirrha after the Kirrhans attacked religious pilgrims on the road to Delphi. The war dragged on for years, until the Greeks devised a plan to poison Kirrha's water supply with the root of a plant that grew abundantly in a nearby area. The plan worked. Soon the defenders were terribly weakened by diarrhea, and the Greeks were able to march in and slaughter everyone.

The plant was Hellebore: Helle, Greek for killing, Bore, Greek for plant. The plant has had questionable associations and mixed reviews since that time. Witches sometimes used it to conjure up demons, while others planted it beside their doors to ward off evil spirits. It has been used medicinally to treat various ailments, including insanity and depression. The results weren't always good, for the toxic plant sometimes killed the patient. Some historians suspect Alexander the Great succumbed to hellebore poisoning because he was taking it as medication.

Do the beautiful flowers hang their heads in shame? Most hellebores do have nodding flowers, though a few modern hybrids look more outward than downward. Actually, the flowers nod to protect their pollen from rain, sleet, snow, and wind. New strains of hellebores come in rich colors, as well as double and even ruffled blooms, but a person has to work to appreciate their beauty. I can casually walk past a planting of hellebores, and I think they are attractive. But to truly see their charm, one has to explore their underworld:

1.  Get down on hands and knees and lower the head until level with the beauties. If one can stand on one's head, that will help.

2.  Hope the next door neighbor or the meter reader doesn't happen by while one's head is on the ground and rump is in the air.

3. Take photos with a good camera. Shove the lens in amidst the foliage and point toward the flowers. A lot of these shots may be worthless, but there will be some wonderful ones, too. A close-up picture brings out details eyes easily overlook.

Although my hellebores are single, without the frills of some new hybrids, I think they are beautiful. I have already done the inelegant work of photographing them, so here's a few shots that won't cost you your dignity:

Hellebores do best in moist, organic soil. They often thrive under deciduous trees, where they receive sunshine in late winter and early spring when they are blooming, then shade during the warmer summer. They can spread to make a nice ground cover. The leaves are evergreen, but tattered foliage should be trimmed before the plant begins blooming in late winter. Clumps may be dug up and their roots divided, and the plant also can be propagated by seed, though seedlings may not have the same characteristics as the parent plant.