Name the Season

Winters are wishy-washy here; one never knows what we will get. Within hours, bitter cold can be followed by spring-time temperatures. Warm gulf stream air and Canadian cold collide and fight for dominance, and neither wins for long. Plants are sometimes confused, like the people who keep a few summer sleeves in the closet along side heavy woolens.

And so it is in my garden, as 2011 comes to a close. We have had some frosts, but mild afternoons have persuaded some plants to start new growth. I hate to see it, for those tender shoots are doomed. Go back to sleep I say. You've hardly had a nap. But plants listen to rhythms other than my voice.

The garden is not colorless. In many ways it still looks like late fall. Crinkly piles of leaves are everywhere. A few colored ones cling to branches here and there, and evergreens brighten the landscape with various shades of green, sometimes tinted with gold, purple or red.Top photo above looks across the patio, while the middle photo is taken from the same spot, with the camera turned to look over the lady garden. Lower left is a portion of the drive, and lower right is the upper end of the hydrangea walk.

More color comes from rose hips and berries:Top photo is a rose hip. Berries shown clockwise from middle left: Ilex vomitoria (yaupon holly); Symphoricarpus doorenbosii 'Kordes' (Amethyst coralberry); Cornus florida (flowering dogwood); Ilex verticillata (common winterberry)On a cold, gray day I found bare branches, empty seed pods, and other signs of winter, but an orange pumpkin, three months old, still brightens the landscape where I set it after taking it and other parts of an autumn display out of the front planter. Its colors are striking, and I'm not willing to put it in the compost while it remains in good shape. I found signs of spring, too, as early daffodils push up from the earth.

 

Winter blooming camellias provide spots of color. There is beauty even in the fallen ones, I think.I am pleased with my fall vegetable garden, and I have discovered that growing food this time of year is easier than struggling to keep vegetables alive through a bug infested, disease ridden, hot and dry summer. But I am not a vegetable gardener, as the broccoli in the collage below testifies. Lou told me days ago that we had broccoli to pick, but in the busyness of the season, I forgot about it. Today I was horrified to discover that some of it had started to flower! Fortunately, there was plenty still good to pick, but I felt bad that I had neglected it.Top photo is decorative cabbage which borders the vegetable patch. Non edible, but I want even this utilitarian area to be pretty! Lower shots are of my neglected broccoli and swiss chard, which has flourished in spring, early summer, fall, and now early winter. Frost has not bothered it.What season are you in? Here is whatever you name it. My garden has a little of it all, with surely some surprises waiting around the corner in 2012.

Happy winter gardening!

Winter's essence in the garden

The essence of winter is in its shapes and its textures, in its stripped down bareness and honesty. It is in its monochromes and its contrasts, dark against light, warm hearth, frozen water. It is the slap to our senses as we inhale the sharp air or feel the icy hand of the wind push against us.

Winter has come to Alabama, with temperatures dropping into the teens this week. The sky on Sunday morning was cold blue, with rows of clouds marching forward, and the trees raised their dark branches to salute the day.

Walking through the garden, I was aware of some things I may have overlooked in another season. 

A large piece of driftwood has been in the yard since we moved here in 1985.  I like the curving shape of it, and I will miss it when it finally rots away.

I admired the colors of a rock, patterned with lichens.

A bird house in a dogwood tree awaits spring tenants. One summer this bird house had a green lizard as its occupant.

The dried heads of 'Limelight' hydrangea will provide winter interest until spring.

The peeling bark of Betula nigra, river birch is amazing.

Not everything is bare. There are many evergreens. I featured some of them in my post, Evergreens, the regents of winter. A few others, shown below, include:

upper left - 'Saybrook gold' spreading juniper. This beautiful plant is planted on a hillside to take advantage of its weeping branches. I love its golden color.

upper right - Spreading yew grows twice as wide as it is tall. It has deep green needles.

lower left - Osmanthus fragrans, tea olive, is a shrub growing to about ten feet. Even now its fragrant flowers are beginning to bloom. 

lower right -Autumn fern. This is a tough, evergreen fern, which survives with minimal care in the woodland garden. New growth has copper highlights, which gives it its name.

There is another evergreen that I don't own yet, but I have been looking for a place for one in my garden ever since last year when I visited Biltmore Estate in North Carolina. This weeping blue atlas cedar captured my heart with its form and color. A plant like this has to be put in the right place. This one is sited perfectly. It echos the curve of the tree limb above it, and the smaller plant below it echos that shape again. Notice, also, how the curve is repeated in the walkway and how the tree's blue color is repeated in the bench on the right. Fabulous!

Stay warm, everybody, and may you enjoy the essence of winter.  Deborah