How like a winter hath my
absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the
fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt,
what dark days seen!
What old December’s bareness
everywhere!
William
Shakespeare
Frost and snow have ensured
that no real gardening could take place during the past few days. Despite the
season, there is still colour to be seen in Pablo’s garden in an occasional
perennial that hasn’t as yet been affected by the frosts, including some of the
this year’s pentstemons and salvias.
There is also one climbing
rose, viewed from the French windows, that still bears one solitary red rose which
continuously waves at me from the left hand border – a wonderfully uplifting
sight.
Evergreens take the lead now.
The holly tree has very few red berries so perhaps it won’t be such a bad
winter after all. Legend has it that the cross was made of wood from the holly tree
and thus the holly must suffer by bearing thorny leaves. Its berries are supposed
to represent drops of Christ’s blood.
 |
| Ivy leaves from the garden with shop-bought roses |
The ivy, which is often such a
nuisance in having to be regularly chastised from entwining itself around the
guttering, now comes into its own. Because of its clinging nature, ivy is seen
as the feminine counterpart of the masculine holly. Small birds love to nest in
it in the spring and in the winter it is perfect for flower arrangements.
A
white flake here and there – a snow lily
Of
last night’s frost – our naked flower beds hold;
And
for a rose flower on the darkening mould
The
hungry redbreast gleams. No bloom, no bee.
From ‘Winter’ by
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
