“From winter, plague and pestilence, good Lord, deliver us!”
Thomas Nashe
It has been a quiet winter so far here in the valley. I brought in the porch wind chimes before the last big wind storm and they will stay inside until spring. The last few winters I have left them out and enjoyed the sound of them even when it was cold out. Turns out that I like the quiet, too. My friend the Wind Chime Hater will think that I have come to my senses at last.
As well as being quiet, my winter quarters are also for the first time in many years almost entirely free of ladybugs. There might be five of them in residence this winter. I pick them up carefully when I find then and put them on a plant. In past winters there were thousands of them around the windows and behind every picture and bookcase. I would vacuum them every day and it hardly seemed to make a dent in their numbers. They swarmed on the last warm day of fall and I can remember the whole outside of the house being covered with them.
I came across a reference to “ladybird swarming” in an old issue of the English magazine, The Countryman. Ladybug swarms were observed in the English countryside in the winter of 1949. The author writes of this phenomenon being observed in Egypt and in California as well. So it would seem that it is natural and has been with us for a long time.
I found several hundred ladybugs on a back wall of the woodshed this past fall. That many I can live with. I don’t miss squashing several hundred of them from just opening and closing an outside door.
The usual January seed and plant orders were sent off before Christmas. The pandemic created demand for all things garden shows no sign of stopping. I won’t be surprised if some things I ordered are sold out.There was no leisurely perusing of the catalogues spread out on the coffee table this year.
I ordered dahlias for the first time ever. I used to think they were too perfect and uniform. But a picture of huge beautiful dahlias in a cottage garden made me look at them differently. Probably it’s a good idea for me to change my mind at least once a decade.
Dahlias as well my friend tells me benefit from being potted up early so they are a good size by the time they’re planted. So no doubt I am making work for myself. I’m sure that by the time we get close to spring I will be desperate to do something plant related.
I also with some trepidation ordered a couple of giant tree lilies. These have been on my list and then crossed off for a few years now. This year in particular I need a few go big or go home plants and these definitely qualify.
I had been half thinking of restoring what used to be a herb garden. Now, though, planting big rambling cottagey flowers in that space is more appealing.
That part of the garden already contains a couple of hazelnuts which give some height and are sprawling and informal. I regret planting the hazelnuts as they are giant suckering monsters. Their one saving grace is that prunings from them make attractive supports for other plants. A lot of pruning is involved to keep them from taking over the world.
I have been looking at books and articles about Arts and Crafts gardens for ideas for that garden in progress. The Arts and Crafts movement was in part a reaction against Victorian formality (carpet bedding for example which is still with us today) and suggested that the garden should blend harmoniously with the house. Nothing is supposed to be ostentatious or unnatural or contrived in an Arts and Crafts garden. Features can include rustic summer houses, fences made from local materials, colourful flower borders, sundials and armillary spheres.
I have always thought that armillary spheres, those globes made up of rings within rings, are beautiful.
English Arts and Crafts gardens often include lots of hedging and much unfortunate topiary.
I have no idea why topiary giraffes and birds and locomotives weren’t considered unnatural and ostentatious. Somehow I can’t picture William Morris standing happily beside a topiary train. Supposedly the Romans introduced topiary to Britain. We are very fortunate here that topiary doesn’t do well in our climate.
Many people have observed that the winter garden, the garden if the imagination, is the best garden of all. I’m inclined to agree. I have no idea where I would get an armillary sphere if I decided that I actually wanted one. But I can see it in my imagination. Rustic fencing, on the other hand, is a little bit easier to realize once the snow melts. Lots of time to dream about what is aspirational and what is actually practical and possible.
Winter is the ideal season for reading about gardens and for armchair gardening. And for letting our imaginations run away with us.
Happy 2021 everyone.
By Jill Williams
