Yoo-hoo winter. Where are you? Can you come out to play?
Here in Toronto, you’ve been pretty much a no-show. Temperatures yesterday shot up to a record-breaking 15.5C for this date in February. The only snow in town are Snowdrops (Galanthus), which are strangely starting to bloom– months ahead of schedule.
For gardeners, winter is anything but dormant. It’s a season to dream, learn, think, and plan. Literally sowing the seeds for a new season of possibility.
What a week.
Like so many others, I’m devastated by the death of cultural lodestar, David Bowie. So much more than a pop icon, he sparked a generational spirit of transformation that inspired and dared us to experiment with a whole new sense of self and the possibilities of life.
He exerted a special power among outliers, artists, androgynes, and the demimonde. There was always a dark side to the soundtrack.
What does this have to do with a planting design blog? Well, perhaps more than I first realized.
It’s become a first rite of spring: after the eternity of a northern winter, I head to the woods to find the first sleeping beauties that awake from the forest floor.
To chance upon the powder-soft buds of purple liverworts (Hepatica nobilis) fluttering their long white lashes into flower; or to marvel at the tightly-wrapped cones of bloodroot (Sanguinaria canadensis) that unscroll their virgin-white blooms; or to wander through vast carpets of mottle-leafed trout lily (Erythronium americanum) with downward-cast yellow trumpets as poised as any orchid.
And then, there’s the familiar sight of trilliums (Trillium grandiflorum) raising their white tricorn hats in unison to follow the arc of the sun across the sky.
It’s love at first sight—all over again.
Boo! It’s that time of year again when pagan festivals, monster horror films, and religious holidays all converge into an unholy clash.
From Hallowe’en to Night of the Living Dead to El Dia de Muerte, there’s something sweetly macabre about our autumnal obsession to summon forth the denizens of the spirit world and celebrate the enigma of life beyond the grave.
With all this morbidity sanctifying the air, it makes me wonder: What about our gardens? Do they really die each year? Or is it more like a form of reincarnation?
There’s a profusion of things happening lately – running on a scale from good to great.
Here’s the major bit of news: The New Perennialist recently won the Gold Award For ‘Best Overall Electronic Media’ in the 2015 Garden Writers Association Media Awards.
Gold winners were announced at the 67th GWA Annual Symposium held in Pasadena, California.
I was a little stunned by the news. And then elated. Had to pour a dram of single malt. My Facebook friends were euphoric, which is actually kinda touching.
