The Sensuality of Seasonality

The first snowdrops.

These little beauties first poked leaves up in January. However, we had a couple of 50 degree days, so the snow is gone and the snowdrops are BLOOMING! Snowdrops, snow crocus, witch hazel, and hellebore save my sanity every year. How can you not love plants that flower in winter?

I was fortunate to attend iLandscape this year and found some common themes in the talks that got me thinking. It seems horticulture is going back to layers and garden rooms - more plants! Less mulch! More beauty! More bugs! Huzzah! 

I found myself pondering the whys of my fascination with plants and the natural world. I am head over heels in love with nature because of change. There is something new to see, hear, smell, feel, and taste every day. Every. Single. Day. Every time I walk out the door I learn something new. The earth is littered with delightful surprises.

While shoveling snow, I learned the call of a downy woodpecker, the satisfying scrape of the shovel on the pavement, the smell of fresh snow as it blankets the earth, and the taste of sky on my tongue. There is such breathtaking elegance in a fresh snowfall on the zigzag twigs of the katsura or the impeccable calligraphy of beech branches. 

And then it thaws and melts and you are rewarded with flowers. 

So, for myself, I will revel in the sensuality of the changing seasons. My gardens bloom from January to November which means I have a panoply of pleasures at my fingertips. Winter showcases the architecture of plants from the brown boats of milkweed pods to the soughing branches of the Norway spruce. I am greedy to devour it all, each tiny petal, buzzing wing, flagrant feather, and pungent herb.

Won't you join me - outside?