Tree Notes

I think you ought to visit Tree Notes blog, and perhaps put it in your bookmarks. Yes, that would be a good thing to do.

Genevieve majors in trees, and writes posts full of delicious notes on all sorts of trees along with the usual cultivation information. I always find myself engaged in her articles. It is like an interview with each tree.

Mythical Spring

early spring snowstorm 2010

I am starting to understand ancient man's reason to tell the myths of Springtime. The Persephone and Brigid myths represent the struggle felt as winter is wont to let go and spring must irresistibly arrive. The old stories of the struggle for power between the Cailleach (the old woman of winter) and Brighid ( whose day is celebrated as the first day of the Celtic spring, February 1st) describes the turning of the seasons from winter to springtime. "In the myths, Cailleach brings winter snows while Brighid brings the first spring rains." That is how our weather, here, seems to act. We have a few days when it feels spring-like, only to be blown away with gusts of sleet, snow, and freezing rain.

Spring almost seems to be the myth, and we doubt our memory of the warmth, the resurrection of our green earth, and the growing season once again appearing. But it will, it will.

Probably the crocus flowers are the most indicative sign of spring, though the snowdrops precede them in blooming. The snowdrops have their milky white and green daintiness, not vibrant enough to declare the spring as the clear golden yellow, bold violet, and gaily striped crocus. the crocus, little as it is, sings of spring and gathers the accompanying humming of bees to proclaim the victory of spring's warmth. Even an April blizzard can't quiet the sound.

But today,the winter's quiet rules my garden. And only memory allows that spring is coming, and the hold of frozen cold cannot stay. Spring is silently marching northward. My heart hears its approach.

Expectedly, We Re-entered Winter

I hope no one else in Ohio is disappointed, since there is no real end of winter weather here before April, and last blasts of it can happen into May. I look outside onto snow frosted fields, the upturned furrows breaking the surface are like a choppy sea. More winter storms are coming this week, but I am jaded to either their charm or their fury. Que sera, sera.

It is too early to start seeds, still. I will wait until next week, although maybe I just don't want to start anything new since I am still adjusting after the eye surgery I had last week. I follow a tiresome schedule of eyedrops right now, and I don't know if planting seeds would be a distraction of a good kind or an irritating one at this point. Sometimes I just like to plant my seeds outside. Less schedules and fretting that way. I sound like a petulant child and I think I have turned into one- can I blame the harsh winter which locked us all inside for so long, broke branches, which still litter the ground with their twigs (all the large pieces gathered and cut up for firewood) ? I wonder how much winter damage was levied by the extreme temperatures of the early winter?

The more I think of it, the more the idea of starting seeds is sounding better. I am sure the garden centers will have oversized and overpriced annuals this coming season. I really like smaller plants and more of them- smaller plants often are more thrifty, with better results during the growing season. What ever happened to the packs of twelve? Besides, it is cheering to have little baby plants sprouting up all over your windowsills and in your plant stand. Now I'm talking myself into it, so I probably will get some plantings going soon.

A Pretty Little Fairy Tale House

clipped from www.coolpicturegallery.net

There were more pictures in this post - I liked these others as well.

clipped from www.coolpicturegallery.net

If I had one I know I would build a fairy garden somewhere.
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© 2010 written for Ilona's Garden Journal. Copyrights apply.

What's Wrong With Gardening Today?

You may love gardening and think there is nothing wrong with it. That would have been me. Little did I think when picking up a book that appeared benignly similar to most books of its kind, that I would happen upon some thoughts that deeply expressed the way I view gardening. Now, after all these years.

The expression of this started out general enough:

"The single most essential element in any garden is not some particular object, plant, or tool. What's vital is the gardener who loves it."

It almost seemed like an inane thing to say ...why, it was obvious wasn't it? Until, like many profound things, the initially obvious became the core from which the whole had moved far from; and the dawning insight outlined the actual situation. Gardening has become displaced from the gardeners and their love of the wonderful world of plants.

When was the last time we understood that we the gardeners are the most essential part of our gardens? Doesn't that seem like environmental heresy? Like some hearkening back to ancient and mistaken thinking? A pre-Galilean gardener-centric way of thinking?

Bits of February Trivia

Ruth Kirk, the author of "Snow":

"Snow not only insulates against low minimum temperatures but also against fluctuations.
A bare soil surface may be heated by direct sunshine, then cooled in seconds as clouds pass overhead, and its temperatures often surge drastically from day to night. Snow moderates these swings and that can be a crucial advantage."

She also corroborates the old saw that snow is the poor farmer's fertilizer. Ms. Kirk found evidence that snow, drawing on ions from the upper atmosphere, adds nitrates as well as some sulfates, calcium and potassium to the soil. - NYTimes

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The beginning of Groundhog Day extends back to the Imbolc, by the Druids.

It has also been called the festival of the lactating sheep. It is derived from the Gaelic word "oimelc" which means "ewes milk." The festival is celebrated on February 2 and marks the midway point of winter.

The name “February” is from the Latin word “februa” which means “expiatory offerings? An expiatory offering is an offering to atone, or cleanse. - Jean Wise


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© 2010 written for Ilona's Garden Journal. Copyrights apply.

Odd Thing Or Two About This Late Winter Time of Year

Pink, Red, or Fuchsia?

Most gardeners have gotten a catalog or two, or three...or more! Garden catalogs have their own language and after awhile one understands the lingo, but at first it can seem almost misleading. I wrote a page about deciphering catalogs a number of years ago. Garden catalog advice. Essentially the two major things to look out for are color descriptions and the florid hyperbole which leads you to believe that you just can't do without this plant, and that, and yet another.... Colors like red and blue are the most problematical. I have my stories, do you?

In the old days, before we were all aware of the Photoshop software, (which I love to use for my own photos, by the way), you would often be tempted by the bulb catalogs that showed crocus, tulips, hyacinths, and daffodils all blooming together in a bouquet sort of clump. Real life never gives you that. Never in the garden... I suppose a talented indoor gardener can force the issue to produce something like that.

The Night The Ice Fell

"It was a dark and stormy night"... is how my uncle jokingly started the telling of some family history as we sat in the living room, all fully aware of the storm predictions and awaiting the next sidewalk report from my husband's periodical trek to get the next load of wood for our stove. The storm had moved in, and we were ready for it.

two days after, ice and branches

The weekend previous I had been to the grocery preparing for the expected visit from my Uncle Bill and Aunt Mary Jeanne, so we were stocked with food. Hurricane Ike, the notorious Ohio Hurricane, had insured that my husband bought a generator rather than depend on the generosity of a friend for the unexpected but occasional power outages that something like an ice storm could easily impose. We felt ready. Bottled water,check; plenty of wood for heat, check; good food,good company, check.

A jigsaw puzzle left unopened from Christmas was hauled out, and Mary Jeanne and one of the kids happily busied themselves with that. Uncle Bill, ensconced in one of the old chairs carried on some conversation.... while I had taken some time out after dinner for checking in on the online world. My husband had been dutifully pacing through the various matters that an ice storm of epic proportions might merit. We settled in, all having seen winter and its worst in other times and places. Or so we believed.