I
have spring fever so bad…just as we enter into the longest month of the
year – February. Now, I know you are saying to yourself, “That Amanda
isn’t so bright, February is actually the shortest month!”
To me though, February can be
difficult to get through. Winter has been going such a long time, and I
am dry and itchy. Tired of gray skies and dull colors. Weary of wet and
mud and slick grass and salty, dirty roads. Tired
of the fusty, dusty winter house smell, a tired, sad smell.
This time of year it is tempting to
eat chocolate until I pass out and hibernate until spring has sprung. In
the world today we don’t make any allowances for late winter. In the
olden times, that our bodies are designed for,
this would be the slowest time of the year and we would do our indoor
chores and sit by the fire, craving something fresh and green to eat and
enduring until warmer weather came. But now we continue to go, go, go –
in these tired bodies, with these stupid,
sleepy winter brains.
My drug of choice for this time of
the year is gardening catalogs. Have you looked at one lately? The
pictures are so lovely, they are practically garden porn. The colors are
luscious, and the descriptions of the plants, the
flowers, the fruit…each one is irresistible. “Yes,” you think, “I must
plant those, and those, and ooh, pretty! Yes, I have to have an entire
field of those!” I am like a child at a dessert buffet, my eyes,
starved of beauty, want to buy ALL THE SEEDS and
have ALL THE FLOWERS. Then I start to consider the actual amount of
space I have to fill and realize I’d need a garden the size of
Versailles to plant all the seeds I am getting ready to order; this
crazy woman puts down the garden catalog and slowly step away
from it, aware that she’s am not entirely rational while in the grips of
spring fever.
The catalogs do a lot to keep me
happy though. Even if I don’t buy ALL THE SEEDS, just looking at the
pictures and reading books about gardening, and watching videos on the
Youtube about growing things – it helps. I bought
a beautiful book called The Layered Garden, by David L. Culp. It
is about planting things in your yard that give you something to look at
all year long. Not just planting something that blooms and is gone, but
having interesting shape, color, and form
going all the time. Also, planting up, and under, and using all the
contours of the ground and the resulting microclimates to make things
last longer. I love the book, if all it had going for it was the
beautiful pictures - that would be enough. But
I like the writing style of the book and the fact that he gardens in Pennsylvania, not too far from where I am.
So many (too many!) garden books are
written by people in California. Not that there’s anything wrong with
California, or California gardens, or people who garden in California –
the lucky bastards. But when Southern California
gardeners talk about their 12 month growing season, and the heat, and
the sun, and all the advantages of living in a gardening paradise (sob!)
I might have a tiny problem with Envy. And with sifting out the nuggets
of gardening advice that apply to people who
can’t grow lemons and avocados in their front gardens. And next
thing you know it I am dissatisfied with my lovely little Maryland
garden and am feeling stabby towards snooty Californians and their 365
days of sun and I’m beating myself silly with the
gardening book and wailing, “Why do I have to live heeeeeere?”
Ahem. So, back to my point, David
Culp knows what it’s like to garden with actual seasons, and cold, and
snow sometimes. And he likes it, and has managed to make his winter
garden just as interesting and complete looking as
it is during the other three seasons. And that’s refreshing and leads
away from the dangers of Envy and into the delights of learning to work
with what you have and making it the best it can be, even without 365 days of sun.
I’m also reading Douglas Tallamy’s
book about planting natives in your yard to attract and sustain native
birds, bees (and other pollinators), and animals. It’s a good book with
an important message. If anyone wants a copy,
let me know. I am going to send a copy to the first person that asks for
it.
I will borrow your copy, but don't want my own. I am terrible gardener. I agree that February is the longest month.
ReplyDelete