The beginning of winter marks the return of the sun. The winter solstice on December 21 is the shortest day of the year, with the angle of the sun at its lowest. Every day afterward is a little longer as the sun begins to climb back higher into the sky towards spring.
The high point in the hollow now, where I live, is awaiting the descent of the robin hordes upon the two autumn olive trees at the edge of the garden, planted many years ago by previous owners to stabilize the creek bank and feed the creatures—squirrels, possum, foxes, deer. Weighted branches rest their silvered ruby berries on the ground like kabuki dancers with heavy kimonos.
 "I can’t bring myself to cut them down, home to countless birds that roost and feed there, but increasingly I am aware of intruders along the edges of our country road." |
Last year hundreds of birds feasted through a rainy weekend providing a Hitchcockian drama through my office window. They swarmed over the course of two days, devouring every berry. As they flew farther south with their tummies full of nutritious seeds, their droppings spread this aggressive alien species to the detriment of many native habitats and their flora.
I can’t bring myself to cut them down, home to countless birds that roost and feed there, but increasingly I am aware of intruders along the edges of our country road: thorny barberry dangling bright orange seeds at the woodland edge; masses of privet infesting road banks, swaths of escaped miscanthus grass running through the woods crowding out the native coralberries, viburnums, hydrangeas and spicebush.
Asian bittersweet vine is particularly pernicious, infesting large swaths of Rtes. 250 and 29, strangling native hardwoods with its rampant growth. If you get a holiday wreath containing the seductively beautiful orange and red berries, send it to the landfill instead of tossing it out the back door or on the compost pile.
If you’ve managed to clear an area of invasive vines or shrubs, or just annual crabgrass, lay down thick layers of newspaper or cardboard topped off with mulch to create a spring planting bed. By March or April, plant pansies, violas and candytuft for a flower border; drifts of itea, abelia or spirea for shrubs.
Mild weather gives time to continue manicuring the grounds and a last dash outside can still make a difference before holiday guests arrive. Rip out frosted weeds and annuals and stuff them in the compost bin. Topdress bare areas with good organic mulch like compost or leaf mold to nurture the soil over the winter and give prominent beds a beveled edge with a good sharp spade. Wear your wellies and pretend you’re Prince Charles.
Pull up dead zinnias or marigolds and clip off dried flower heads into the bed. Many showy annuals—larkspur, poppies, nicotiana, tassel flower and sweet William—reseed themselves if managed properly. Get bulbs in the ground by Christmas, New Year’s Day at the latest. Plant two to three times as deep as the bulb is tall.
As the year turns, scented geraniums, jasmine vines and a gardenia that lived outside all summer on the deck have come inside for their winter sojourn. A back room with no direct heat is ideal; away from heat vents and drafts, a necessity. One foot square tiles make a good barrier between saucers and the floor or carpet.
Putting plants to bed for winter offers a multitude of satisfying tasks and gets us outside to feel the changing of the seasons, the air and soil becoming colder even as the sun rises higher in the sky. It’s no coincidence that holiday celebrations occur at the same time the light increases; the rhythm of our solar system sustains us.
December in the garden
-Beware the bittersweet
-Create beds for spring
-Scatter seed
Garden questions? Send them to Cathy Clary at garden@c-ville.com.
