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The Garden In Winter

© Howard Deutch

Of one thing I am thankful. Though we live a mere handful of miles below Lake Ontario's snow belt, the difference between being in it and south of it is measured in yards of snow depth. When winter descends upon Central New York, all outdoor flora either goes into hibernation or dies. Not so the fauna. Kay insists on sleeping with one bedroom window wide open. She is not deterred even if the temperature outside approaches absolute zero. The other night I was awakened by a series of crunching noises. We had had an ice storm which covered the snow with a thick crust of ice which in turn was covered by more snow. Despite the frigid temperature, I arose and looked out the window. Below me was a deer munching on my Euonymus fortunei. It ignored the cakes of strong-scented Irish Spring soap hung on it to repel quadrupeds. After we had looked at each other for some moments, I yelled, and it bounded away. Two mornings later it brought back its friends for revenge. My son tells me of a friend of his who successfully discourages deer with a paint ball gun. Unfortunately that requires continuous surveillance although it does serve to mark them for future reference.

Another furry animal that is prevalent in the winter is the squirrel. I need say no more about this inhabitant of  bird feeders.

When the sun comes out (it really does on rare occasions), the transformation of the garden is a sight to behold. Everything is covered in a blanket of white. The buds of the Viburnum are tightly wrapped, waiting for spring.

Viburnum lantana

The perennials are buried under the snow, not to be seen again for months. The deer footprints and rabbit tracks break the smooth surface of the snow. I know that under it all the voles are burrowing. Especially beneath the bird feeder. I have given up controlling them. During the summer I have feebly tried to antagonize them by shoving mothballs down their burrows. I gave that up when I noticed they merely pushed them out again. Kay's cat is useless at keeping the population in check. He used to leave his catch at the front door. He must have become aware of Kay's repugnance of this act and has now

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