I read a fair number of blogs related to gardens and landscape design. Recently, many of these have been full of glee about the approach of spring. They’ve showcased crocus peeping above ground and shown snowdrops in profusion.
Phooey.
Where I live, winter is still here and the only garden I see is snow. (Cue Gilles Vigneault: “Mon pays, c’est ne pas un pays, c’est l’hiver. Mon jardin c’est ne pas un jardin, c’est la plaine….” If you don’t know the song, google it here. And wait till Gilles begins to sing before you stop.)
In a garden where winter endures, sculpture plays a significant role, offering something more than a featureless expanse of white.
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| Récolte, by Louise Doucet and Satoshi Saito, an important part of the winter garden at Glen Villa |
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| Boxwoods disguised as undercover secret agents pose near the aqueduct. Or are they upside down ice cream cones waiting to melt in the spring? |
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| A small pond hides under the snow and ice. It is there, I promise. |
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| In April the snowdrops should appear. Change that: in April they will appear. Please! |
Those other blogs from warmer places mention iris in bloom and show photos of spring green buds. The pictures make me turn green — with envy. The only colour in my world comes from the turquoise and gold of the Chinese lions, or fu dogs, purchased many years ago in Hong Kong.
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| This dog is a female. You can tell because her paw is on top of (squashing?) the baby lion. Facing her out across the log terrace is a male. His paw rests on an orb to show he rules the world. |
My world is white, black and grey — except on good days, when the sky is brilliant blue. That’s when you want to sing in praise of winter, and of poudrerie and froidure.
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| Winter in the upper field at the Skating Pond. |
I love winter. As Gilles sings so movingly, it is when snow and wind marry in a white ceremony, when we live between four walls of ice. But enough already!
Winter is running out!
The Spring Equinox Ritual
Begins March 20, 2014 @ 16:57 GMT.
The Vernal Equinox occurs the day, nearest March 21, when night and day are nearly the same length and corresponds to the center of the Sun crossing the celestial equator moving northward. The Vernal Equinox marks the first day of the season of Spring in the northern hemisphere.
The right ascension at the Vernal Equinox originally was in the constellation Aries and the point of crossing was known as the first point in Aries (now it is actually in Pisces because of precession).
The time is one of balance between night and day, light and dark. It is also a time to consider what goals or wishes you would like to achieve or have happen over the next year.
This ritual assists in the balancing and/or manifesting of it all; achieving those new or uncompleted goals, wishes and desires; a time for all that is new and possible….a time to break the last of the chains that has stopped or hindered your own growth. Thus it is a time to consider what goals or wishes you would like to achieve or what you may want to have happen over the next year; a true celebration of rebirthing your life and nature itself.
I’m ready for the balancing act — as long as I come down on the other side of it.
That wrapped-up group of little boxwoods has so much personality in the snow!
I agree… they look like little people, up to mischief. Loved your highwire act, Cindy.
Amen to that! My garden in suburban Boston is well buried under a couple feet of snow. I have been reading that Montreal is much colder than Boston this winter, so I know exactly what you are talking about. I like your sculptures….increasingly I am gaining an appreciation of garden sculptures, although I still cling to my design philosophy of designing for winter with trees & shrubs…and taking a winter vacation to warmer climes
Amy, I was hoping to get to Boston in March but it doesn’t look likely. It’s been really cold here this winter, so my brief Florida break was a great relief.