I prefer winter and fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape. Something waits beneath it; the whole story doesn’t show. ~Andrew Wyeth
My idea of winter sports has always been a good game of chess in front of a warm fireplace. Yet there is no denying that the longer I garden, the more I appreciate the garden in winter. As the plants turn a crisp gold and then a rough brown, the eye focuses on the paths, the arbors, the bare trees and shrubs -“the bone structure of the landscape.”
The details of plants become fascinating in a new way. The rose hips ripen and soften as the weather changes
while the cone in coneflower suddenly makes its presence known.
Milkweed pods open and release their seeds, carried by gossamer wings.
An early morning stroll through the garden is dramatic in the winter sunrise.
And when snow arrives, those bones suddenly don a frosty gown that transforms everything.
It is the life of the crystal, the architect of the flake, the fire of the frost, the soul of the sunbeam. This crisp winter air is full of it. ~John Burroughs
We had an especially pretty snowfall last week that I was able to capture on video – enjoy the winter wonderland.
“Snow was falling,
so much like stars
filling the dark trees
that one could easily imagine
its reason for being was nothing more
than prettiness.”
~ Mary Oliver
The flowers of PG Hydrangea ‘Limelight’ have turned a soft pink 
yet still play host to sleeping bumblebees. 
I’ve had my hands in the dirt (well, dirty gloves) all summer, leaving little time to write or share until now. 
In July, my garden was on a garden tour to benefit a local library and I taught a class in it for 
amid a new set of glass globes in the blue garden. 
I suspected last year that there would come a day in the garden when the loss of Angel Eyes would strike me suddenly. It happened while I was photographing this arbor of roses – I have many years of photos of Angel standing under the arbor – she loved the scent of the roses and always paused here to smell them. Suddenly the arbor was empty without her 
with only fallen petals to mark her favorite spot on the path. 
I had to put my camera away for the day but the next morning, Pixie insisted on staying near me, “helping” me to pot up flowers on the deck and making me laugh again. 
There was no hurry or bustle this morning, just a task completed here and another one begun there with no sense of a clock ticking or a checklist to follow. Time was instead measured by new flowers opening, the sudden low buzz of a hummingbird passing, and the occasional visit from a fat bumblebee.
The spring bulbs have finished for the season – one final blossom of the summer snowflake (Leucojum aestivum) lingers among the ferns.
Allium and Camassia, the bulbs of May, come forward to have their say in shades of purple and blue while Lilac ‘Miss Kim’ is just starting to bloom. (Click on any photo to see the full size image)
composerinthegarden 