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Wicked Pranks of Winter, Enduring Hope

© Laurel Morris

Spring: sometimes it looks like it's here, sometimes it seems out of reach. The recent nor'easter has been a dreary reminder that winter's grasp is tight and does not easily let go. What this can do to the psyche of gardeners is nothing less than devastating. For those of us who live in areas where the winters kill off most vegetation, signs of spring can mean everything. Just last week, things were looking up. My roses had substantial leaf buds, the willows were leafing out, the daylilies had popped up six inches or so. My spirits were up, and thoughts turned to the outdoors: what needs to be done? Lists of chores were made, and the work started. The bird boxes were repaired and cleaned out, weeding was done and new garden project ideas were hatched. I had sore muscles: life was good!

But this burst of warmth and sunshine was about to end. The forecast predicted snow, ice, and below freezing wind chills. As the storm approached, I threw on the layers of sweaters, coats, socks and boots and ventured out into the yard, the ground already muddy and soaked from previous rains. My first priority was to try to save the rose sprouts. I used all available materials: paper and plastic bags, towels, and plastic plant containers. There was an urgency, a push to keep my small signs of spring alive. I needed this success, this survival of garden hope. Next to do was the all-too-familiar hurricane skill of tying down items and strengthening upright structures against destroying winds. The pea trellis was staked and wired, even the garbage can had to be tied down. Straw was reinforced around tiny pea sprouts as well as my precious garlic. My greenhouse stood there in big, hulking dormancy. The only thing left to do was to bring in some wood and stoke a fire inside and wait.

Overnight, the nor'easter whipped through the land and restored the cold, dark madness of winter with snow, ice and fierce winds. My poor roses! I wondered what would be the aftermath of this wicked prank of winter? I hoped my spring signs would still be there. If they weren't, at least I went down fighting. The winds kept me awake throughout the night, and when the sun rose, the ground was blanketed with a white dusting of snow. The winds were fierce for the remainder of the day while the storm wrapped back around in a circle, back down to the North Carolina area. It was a bone chilling, dark day, and I kept peeking out at my garden, making sure nothing had blown away or come undone.