The Winter Storm

Smattering of snow in the backyard

Smattering of snow in the backyard

Yesterday, the sky darkened and the wind shook the fir trees above me. Snow suddenly appeared flying horizontally past the windows. The promised winter storm arrived. I sipped hot tea and thought/worried about My (poor) Pirate out delivering food in forty five mile-an-hour wind gusts over in Gresham. 

Once the winds settled down, I stepped outside to take a few shots. 

Someone forgot to bring in the hammock for winter...

Schefflera Delavayi sporting some snow

Schefflera Delavayi sporting some snow

My Pirate arrived home just as the snow shifted to sleet and I could hear the ice covered trees creak as they moved in the breeze. 

This morning, I woke up with a cold and was surprised to see that the ice hadn't started melting yet. The weather men had predicted a quick thaw, but the temperature stuck at 32 and only shifted up to 33 degrees. 

My big loss from the storm is an olive tree. The twine had rotted and didn't hold up the weight, so it snapped. Dammit.

Disporum cantoniense 'Night Heron' coated in ice

Disporum cantoniense 'Night Heron' coated in ice

Daphne x houtteana 'February Plum' coated in ice

Daphne x houtteana 'February Plum' coated in ice

I moved my February Plum Daphne into a new spot and now it has to endure this storm. I hope it survives. It did look pretty fab in the snow. 

My newly planted front and side gardens are currently slumped over under the weight of the ice. It's looking pretty ugly. Here's a few close-ups to distract us from this icy mess. Stay safe out there! 

Poncirus trifoliate 'Flying Dragon'

Poncirus trifoliate 'Flying Dragon'

Shimmering Rugosa Rose hips

Shimmering Rugosa Rose hips

Sophia prostrata 'Little Baby'

Sophia prostrata 'Little Baby'

Wednesday Vignette: Winter Blues

Moroccan Sea Holly, Eryngium variifolium, seed heads and Anigozanthos flavidus covered in frost

Moroccan Sea Holly, Eryngium variifolium, seed heads and Anigozanthos flavidus covered in frost

As my garden enters winter dormancy, I find myself downshifting with it. In December, my interminable giddiness at life enters hibernation and I console myself that it will return with spring. My sunniness no longer fills rooms and coaxes strangers into laughter. My noisy introverted nature turns silent. I read, research, build classes, sift through the debris of my busy growing season and prepare for the coming year.

Outside, my garden trees and shrubs are busy growing new roots and expanding. Winter is an important time to grow and prepare for spring. A cold quiet season is necessary for both the garden and my soul.

Photographing Snow

Mahonia x media 'Charity' bloom 

Mahonia x media 'Charity' bloom 

Yesterday morning, I found myself standing outside photographing snow. It was falling all around me in huge lazy flakes. The Crony Brothers watched me through their front window while sipping out of coffee cups. I was squatting in the slushy snow with my lens aimed at a flower, holding my breath, squeezing the camera button and then exhaling as I stood. Over and over again.

Being a garden blogger is a crazy thing, if you’d ask my neighbors.  But for me, it is pure joy. 

Savoy cabbage in snow 

Savoy cabbage in snow 

I started this blog as a place to practice writing and putting my neck out.  And four years later, my life is so much bigger. I’m teaching gardening courses through the community education department at Clark College. I recently wrapped up my busiest garden season of teaching, volunteering, and garden projects. 

The alpine strawberries have been blooming like crazy. 

The alpine strawberries have been blooming like crazy. 

I find myself surrounded by the most remarkable people; breathtakingly beautiful wise people that teach me so much everyday. Today, I researched cucumber mosaic virus with a fellow mg volunteer that filled my ears with her stories of world travels and a rough year filled with loss and a stroke.  We’re all in this together.

 

And I’m so thankful for you. Thank you for being here. 

Meadow rue seedheads

Meadow rue seedheads

A lone echinacea 

A lone echinacea 

Wednesday Vignette: Toadstool

This damp October broke monthly rainfall records when we reached 8.11 inches of rain with only 2 days without rainfall. The summer drought is long forgotten and the garden is abloom with fungus. Toadstools and mushrooms adorn the garden soil, fence line, and the fir tree bark.

Please visit my blogger buddy, Anna at Flutter and Hum, to see the rest of the Wednesday Vignettes.