Fall Blizzard Dec./07

Here are some pictures taken during and after the blizzard.

What to Do While Waiting For Winter

It's the last third of Fall. I've covered the beds with fallen leaves, shored up the rose bushes and other tenders with leaves and dirt and filled the bird feeders. There they are - finally exposed for all to see - the branches of my garden. Because I dream about pruning, I've waited for this moment all year.

I know I'm projecting my life onto my garden. There are many things I'd like to prune that I won't get to this year - a little less tv, encourage my reading to grow in a different direction, bake more cookies. Instead I shift focus to the brown, grey, red and yellow stalks that shelter my garden and its wildlife.

Gardening wisdom has it that one doesn't prune in either Fall or Spring. Spring is wrong for the obvious reason that sap is flowing and buds are bursting and if your plant is the type that puts out water spouts, you'll be inundated. Fall is wrong because with all the leaves falling, irritant spores are everywhere and you don't want to leave a wound open that would draw in disease.

I'm left with the months that now pass for Winter in Toronto - December, January, February (before the witchhazel blooms).

I have plans. I want to remove the lower branches of all my major deciduous trees. The yellow birch on the front lawn, the tulip tree on the side front lawn, and the Kentucky coffee tree in the back are all due for having their three lowest branches pruned.

Shrubs can be more difficult. The doublefile viburnums are prone to water spouting, so I must be judicious, though I'd like to create space underneath them. The roses can be pruned or tied so the canes don't wave around or get weighted down by snow. It's best to avoid pruning both the witch hazel and the oakleaf hydrangea. I wouldn't dream of touching either. I want them to grow much bigger.

Lastly, the wisteria can be pruned back by as much as 90% of new growth, but not this year. I'm trying to regrow it after Sophie ate through the oldest stems in 2005.

Long ago I gave up pruning my clematis.

There's my plan. Now I sit back and wait for frost to slow everything down.

How Warm Will It Go?

First week of March and we are pounded by the fat wet clumping snowflakes that signal spring snow. Ten days later and the temperature's heading for 9C.

Yesterday the mourning doves returned, followed hard on their heels by the crows. The snow is melting to rivers while the grates are still hidden by ice bergs.

What will spring bring?

Stay tuned for photos of the witch hazel which is about to bloom.

Snowy Day

Curtains of thick white snow are falling heavily. Each flake is a plummeting moth.

The sky is simply a deeper white than the ground. I'm in an old fashioned snow globe. Out of nowhere, there's sheet of lightning, followed by a boom of thunder held down by the clouds. It was awesome. I don't think I've seen that ever before.