I just heard the snowplough go rattling down my street, which means the driveway awaits my attention. There's no denying it, despite a late start, winter is here and the garden season of 2015 is finally over.
It was the longest I've known in this area. I actually worked in my garden for a full nine months beginning with a little pruning in early March and ending with bulb planting in December.
Now that's something that needs to be changed — the idea that gardening is work. Sure, mowing a lawn or digging a hole might be considered work by some, but really, gardening is anything but work. To me, it's a joy-filled pastime with huge benefits.
But now, deep in this world of muffled senses, ice scrapers, and salt stained pants, the garden is in hibernation and I'm feeling the withdrawal a little more than usual. Shoveling snow may be good exercise, but I'd much rather be pottering about the back yard.
But what's a poor gardener to do at this time of year? I browse seed catalogues or draw up plans for a landscaping project, I attend garden conferences, read garden books, pamper the philodendron a little more than normal, and on occasion, I'll loiter in the greenhouse at one of our local garden centres, but these things don't quite make up for my garden.
What's really missing is the spiritual connection I have with the old place, the total stress busting transformation that takes place when I'm surrounded by the life affirming growth of living things.
As calm as he appears, I'm sure my garden Buddha is wishing he was some place else too.
It's a good thing spring is only weeks away -- hah!