eGarden © 2005 Ed Mues

From The Garden of Ed. Submitted for publication in The Towne Crier on January 26, 2005

Closer Looks in Winter Light.

It was on Christmas eve that I received my first 2005 garden catalog, and it served as my reminder. "Ed, it's time you reassessed what's going on around you. You know, there's a change or two you've thought about more than once, and meant to take note of, so you wouldn't forget. Remember?" "Yeah", I said to my alter ego. So, I recalled my short list, jotted it down, and stepped out into the cold. I took my camera with me.

There is a quiet that waits outside the door at this time of the year. A short walk reveals just how comforting it is, without any shouting for the other senses. No strong aromas from the garden, or colors clamoring for attention from the annual beds or the perennial startups that threaten to distract all through the growing season. The silence is adorned almost singularly by the birds' songs in the background. And, maybe, the soft hush of the flowing water, another gentleness that embraces us, as the foot falls crunch the frozen surface.

The vernal part of our year is asleep. Most of the usual, how can I put them, Garden-Thinks, maybe, or, grandiosely, "Landscape-Thinks" need to be awakened. Why now? Because now, with the help of the quiet, we can immerse ourselves into what's not revealed, what is waiting in hidden anticipation to be shown. The dead feeling of winter, the uncanny absence of distraction, the usually masked forms and structures of the landscape, the loneliness that accompanies it, all these contribute to an unfettered openness and freedom to plan changes in the landscape, be they additions or subtractions.

Closer looks in winter light do reveal a great many colors. They are often subtle, soft, and, yet, very deserving of notice. Later in the year, when competing with the verdant spring eruption, they will be ignored or drowned out. They may be lichens and mosses on stone walls or fences, seed heads of grasses and perennials, fruit on trees and shrubs, even the barks on tree trunks, or the reflections in unfrozen patches of water. The solitude offers us an opportunity to consider these as elements in our "revision".

As your gaze sweeps slowly around your landscape, notice where snow drifts accumulate, and remind yourself that snow is deposited where something slows down the wind. Hedges and fences, landscape plants and structures deflect winter winds, and so they leave their white passenger in a less anticipated spot. Walkways, doorways, driveways are all impacted. Adding or removing fences, hedges, or a landscape favorite can all make a notable difference, and save a lot of labor. Look at all of the hardscape elements: arbors, pergolas, birdbaths, sculptures, benches, terraces, and decorative pots. Watch where the snow gathers relative to the prevailing winds. This can provide an added interest in your winter view of things, and may influence your renovation plans for later in the year. Keep in mind, accumulated snow insulates more tender spring flowering buds from repeated freezing and thawing episodes and affords a lot of protection for a better show during bloom time. We've all noticed this reaction with forsythia. Think larger.

Something I have found very useful is keeping a photo record of specific areas of interest. If you have access to a black and white copier, make an enlarged copy or two of each of your best photos. You can then sketch on or paste in additions, or white out subtractions. Take the revised design on paper outside, and compare it to what you see. It really helps to visualize changes before you go to it in the warmth and comfort of spring.

I wonder if you've ever considered that lawns come with their own baggage of requirements. In particular, investments in high energy, time and money. If you've ever dreamed of giving up mowing, blowing, fertilizing, pesticiding, edging and watering to keep this monoculture going and looking its best, it's a perfect time to consider an alternative that is both visually appealing, biologically diverse, ecologically friendly, and environmentally sound and rewarding. Native plants are an interesting and beautiful option. So, too, are a multitude of ground covers that can work well with the natives. The peace from the absent mowers, the security from the absent pesticides, and the savings will all comfort you. And, I think, you will be happier as a more earth friendly citizen.

It is snowing hard as I write this, and I'm reminded, because my window looks out the front of my house, to suggest looking beneath trees with scaffold branches four or five feet above the ground, as well as to look through the open structure at what is visible behind them. Conifers take on a uniquely different look when veiled with snow. Sometimes heavy and burdensome snow or ice completely change the character of our evergreens, lending them a massive lumbering effect. When coated with a crystalline ice layer, even in moonlight they take on a ghostly appearance. The skeletons of deciduous trees become luminous. In sunlight, the whole scene is dreamlike.

The point is: Any addition or subtraction to your landscape may affect, in profound ways or subtle ones, what the eye takes in at different seasons of the year. If an area is vacant of interest in the winter, make a note, think about the addition and work toward the solution. Likewise, if a winter view is so cluttered from one point of view, but boring or uninteresting from another, I offer the same advice. Take a few pictures, too. Winter strolls can be so helpful. Don't forget to visit the same spots spring, summer and fall to gain some insight into what's driving the overall plan, seasonally. It's up to you to be the author.

So, settle down with the catalogs as they flow into your home, but, remember to take some time to be outside, and, if it's not snowing or too uncomfortable, bring some catalogs with you. Visualize, and don't forget your camera.

From The Garden of Ed. Submitted for publication in The Towne Crier on January 26, 2005

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