![]() This brings to mind another connection between winter and water. What happens when there is too much and it sticks around for too long? What happens when it is heated? When there is not enough? The answers to these questions depend on the plant and we plan our gardens accordingly. Come to think of it, a lot about gardening seems to revolve around observing water. Some plants like the hardy cacti that defy our expectations from this family of fleshy, water-filled plants, survive outside year-round by shrivelling up for the winter, letting go of some of that water in order to survive the freeze (I only suspect this is why they do that as I have never looked it up to be sure). Some are adapted to being frozen and thawed and frozen and thawed, over and over again. Plants are full of water some more than others. Of course, as long as I have been gardening I have known this. Or, err, the cause of their trouble was in fact because I (their keeper) had left them - these tender plants that have not devised some special adaptation to having the water inside their cells frozen - in an unheated room in the middle of winter when the possibility of freezing was always imminent. My plants’ cells are full of this vital element and it was this water, now frozen and expanding their cells, that had put them in harms way. I had only recently read your words and now here they were, perfectly, aptly demonstrated. The relationship between water and winter has been spinning in my mind since I sat down to read the first chapter of your new book. The funny thing is that in the midst of those crazy, frenetic, freak out minutes I had a clear and quiet thought, “ Water. In these moments I move too quickly and dangerously as if the seconds I have shaved off will make any difference at all. The hallway, dining room, and living room quickly turning into a temporary, albeit light-less, plant nursery. So there I was, a frantic octopus person, scurrying about, filling my arms with pots in an attempt to get them out of their frozen world and onto any empty surface I could find. And then I woke up one day to find dozens of potted plants frozen. I didn’t protect things as I should have, telling myself it wasn’t worth the bother. Truth be told, we haven’t had a proper, true north winter in years and I was starting to believe that those days were over. They were flourishing and some were even blooming. I’d been half-bragging for months about how well even the most tender Pelargoniums (scented geraniums) were doing out there in the cold. It was my own fault I have a bad tendency to push things further than they should go. The other morning I stepped into the greenhouse (I need to find another name for this space as it is not a “real” greenhouse) to check up on my plants and was horrified to discover that winter had well and truly arrived. ![]() Our previous neighborhood was full of freaks and weirdoes so we blended in easily. When it comes to the neighborhood sensibility, I generally try to keep my outward appearance on the side of eccentric, avoiding the line that crosses into street weirdo. Covering the windows in packaging materials may be one step too far. I long to line the windows along the east side in bubble wrap for added insulation, but the porch faces the street and there are already so many off-kilter things about us that sully our reputation locally as-is. In the winter I store many potted half-hardy plants there with the most tender of the bunch huddled together against the brick of the house where they can benefit from a bit of passive heat. Margaret’s corresponding “Dear Gayla” letter for this week can be seen here.Īttached to my home is a south-facing, unheated porch that I use as a cold greenhouse of sorts. The first instalment coincides with the launch of Margaret’s new book - giveaway details can be found at the end of this post. It will be interesting to see how our correspondence develops and what similarities and differences occur between our two gardens: one urban and the other rural. Installments will include a letter from each of us, unplanned and posted simultaneously to our websites. Dear Margaret: Those two words are how each “letter” in this new series will begin, whenever I write here to my friend Margaret Roach of A Way to Garden. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |