starting from snow
We begin to garden from a point of frozen stillness. No sprouts, no wetness, no warm rotting smells. Just a cold, etherized white palette. Time to do nothing, time to let my horizons contract, time to sit and contemplate and disbelieve the jars of dried and vinegared herbs on the dining room ledge.
Today the large dry fluffy cluster snow flakes are falling again. My favorite kind, even if they are the most work to shovel. Sally does not yet believe that a cold day in December (-15 C) will be a warm day for which we are grateful next month.
Last month, the daffodil and tulip bulbs got put in, perhaps deep enough and early enough this year. Three weeks ago, my first time transplanting while it snowed. Colin says that herbs may survive in the ground, but not in a planter. So move them after they are dormant. But "go dormant" here comes later than several days of snow. So take a bucket of hot tap water, soften the crisp layer, hack at it with a fork. Ah, (like an apple crumble) it's still soft six inches down. And in the ground go these frozen root lumps, anyhow, covered by a bale of hay.
All I can do now is garnish the stiffened compost with tropical fruit peel (and shovel more white icing).