Reflecting

Because there is a new blizzard and because I have read through my current seed catalogs to the point that the catalogs themselves are tired, I have been looking at pictures of my property and the progress. Once upon a time, there was a cabin, a neglected trailer next to the cabin, and a pond. No walkways, no gardens - although there was a significant amount of Comptonia proclaiming that sweet plants could indeed live here. This Google Earth photo says so much to me: the trailer is replaced by the main pollinator garden, there is an interlocking series of paths to the pond, to the goose Palace, to the rhododendron gardens, through the woods (plural), to the deer feeding station. Every inch of path was built with cardboard and gravel and a wheelbarrow. In the beginning, the driveway was a series of holes fringed by long reaching fingers of alders. No longer. The ankle-biting blackberry vine ground cover is replaced by a hundred other plants that welcome both my ankles and a host of helpful invertebrates. So much has changed. I will hold tight to the thought that the property is all resting under the newest blanket of snow, waiting to explode into green once again.

Blizzard Topped With More Snow

Within a week, my gardens went from bare and brown to buried under more than two feet of snow. My snowshoes and I are reacquainted and have made numerous loops of the woods, down to the goose Palace and the pond and back up to the house. I can also report that the bottle tree is doing an excellent job of capturing evil spirits as they meander down the driveway. Or do evil spirits slither? In any case, my debris pile now has an insulating snow roof and there are tracks everywhere indicating the feeders are being visited by a wide variety of critters. Several seed catalogs have arrived and January 2015 is hours away from done. This feels like "winter progress."

New Year's Day

I had no true plans for my own holiday supper but was well pleased to see this doe visit with her fawn for their meal. They surprised me and I surprised them as I was clearing the last of the blow-down from the backwoods walkway. I dropped my tools and went indoors so they could dine in peace. All paths are now navigable, the forecast holds no snow cover for plants. Sawing dead limbs and tossing brush will have to content me for a while. I read the following on Garden Rant and liked the words enough to repeat them. It's a good gardening thought for 2015 - shaking hands with the divine.

http://gardenrant.com/2014/12/trees-in-memorium.html

"I hope the New Year brings the opportunity to garden with joy. And even if things will be planted in memorium, I hope we can all take comfort in the fact that we are gardening in collaboration with something grand, and every time we put something in the ground and wait for its transformation, we are shaking hands with the divine."

After-Christmas Walk

Contrary to popular belief that gardening ends in the Fall, I have been "gardening" throughout December. I label any outdoor endeavor as gardening, perhaps that is my reasoning. It has taken me most of the month to tote away the debris from the three Nor'easters. My wildlife shelter/debris pile is immense, I do so hope there is a bunny within it. The fattest-possible gray and red squirrels preside over the bird feeders. The onslaught of 2015 seed catalogs has begun and I read the wildflower/pollinator seed mixes to see what already exists within my garden and might exist should Providence prevail. The rhododendrons seem well, their leaves variously droop and come back to life with each passing bout of cold weather. I have rebuilt the stone walls surrounding the shed door and filled those mini-beds with soil. I believe they are my weed-free, full sun locations for next season. The geese have produced soiled hay as is their job and I have moved that hay to the newest compost area. I loved the all-day rain on Christmas. Soak on, rot on. Walter the Dog and I had the spare time to meander through the back woods. There is a lot of work to be done there as well, to clear the paths for our fourteen year old dog friend Keene, who is quite blind and needs an air-lift over logs. We saw this stellar example of shelf fungi.

Actual Thanksgiving/Another Nor'easter

Happy Thanksgiving

I am thankful for this young solo heron that stood in my driveway and posed for me,  and I wish him well on his travels South. I am thankful for all the small trees and branches that came down in the early November storm. I used the branches to build a debris pile that I hope will shelter many a rabbit, vole and mouse through the winter. My geese love all the leftover scraps from the school's cafeteria and the flock of visiting Mallards love all the leftover scraps from the geese. The red squirrel who lives in the shed praises the grain and seed spilled each day as I feed the deer and the chickadees. I am thankful to whomever brought nine bags of leaves to the dump. I brought the bags home and used them to grow the pollinator garden ever larger for next summer's feast. And the leaves were chipped, how glorious and compostable is that? I am thankful to the woman in Blue Hill who places bags of horse manure and a Mason jar by her curbside. I am so happy to buy manure. All the brown-ness and bareness of November just seems like a rearranging of life to me. My Halloween pumpkin is happily rotting and destined to leave some seeds to sprout next May, a few winterberry branches are my bright red, next-holiday decorations on the deck - the cedar waxwings ate all the rest from the bushes. The bounty and the blessings are everywhere.

November News

Brown warblers, sparrows, chickadees, juncos and nuthatches are not pollinators now but my November garden is a-flurry with them and I am enchanted by their presence. All the brown stems, canes, and seed heads seem to be sprouting birds. If ever I had doubts about not furiously cleaning and tidying the "debris" of last season, those doubts are gone. Tidying can happen in April. It's easier to photograph the birds at the feeder than against a backdrop of brown, tan and yellow - so here's a view of just a few of my visitors. One feeder is slightly misshapen from nocturnal visits by raccoon and deer.

An early snowstorm walloped the Island last weekend and today was spent with the background noise of generators and chainsaws (we still do not have power). Spurred by the removal of broken branches and fallen trees, we were inspired to cut a path through trees and krummholz into a clearing. (One cannot do dishes or laundry when there is no electricity. The house is distressing. One must therefore remain outdoors in the sunshine.) Now there is a Secret Garden ready for suggestions. Acid soil, excellent drainage, partial sun, sort of south facing but surrounded by balsam and spruce. What do you think should grow there?