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Along about February, when Cabin Fever sets in, dramatic steps must be taken to retain one's sanity. One step is to pack one's bags and head for warmer climes to bask in the sun among palm trees. A second is to spread garden catalogs about and pretend you are among the flowers. A third is to do both sequentially. Those who do not reside in the frigid north are unaware of the dire consequences of doing nothing. Brains turn to jelly, hands shake uncontrollably and divorce rates increase. Just examine the two images of the view from our back windows. The one on the left is an unrelenting frigid black and white. The right one is truly right, changing slowly from spring to fall but always with soft tones and varying colors. Even in early fall after most of the other flowers have faded away, the chrysanthemums still add color to the garden before the leaves turn. Will summer never come back?
Those of you who live in warmer climes may read further on as if this were a fairy tale. It is necessary to experience a northern winter to fully appreciate its deadly nature. The temperature sinks well below zero F ( last night it was -8 F°, -22 Cº ) and the snow squeaks as one walks on it. Inside, when the snow whips by the window, only the fire in the hearth seems to have any warm life. Before the end of January we already had over 100 inches (2.5 meters) of snow. We are, however, lucky. The region just north of us, in the very middle of the snow belt, has had even more snow and a temperature last night of -28ºF.
In the winter you have to search for color other than dark and gloomy or white on white. Male Cardinals are vivid spots of red against the background of snow. The red branches of the Cornus "Eligantissima" stand out from the white background (unless the snow is too high). In the spring it is not easy to distinguish its flowers from its variegated leaves. The red berries on the Euonymus alatus compactus are a bright contrast to the snow. Only the Juncos seem to eat them. The berries on the Viburnum trilobum were eaten by the birds before the snows fell. The berries on the Cotoneaster are buried
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