January. The start of a new year. Mountaintop is always so quiet in January, usually under a cover of snow. There’s a stillness that contrasts so vividly with the constant action of midsummer. Most years the snow is too deep for us to venture too far towards the back of the property, but there is normally at least one week when a sudden thaw allows us to take a brisk stroll to see what’s going on. On those rare days it’s possible to explore and take in the unadorned view. The melting snow fills the streams so that we can hear the rushing water from as far away as the house. Our waterfall runs especially strongly on days like this and rewards the effort needed to walk across the ice and down the slopes to the deck we built as a viewing platform where we can watch and listen as the water careens down the zig-zag between the rocks and out towards the river in the distance. It’s our favorite spot. Perfect. Secluded. A gift of nature.
Today was such a day. Along the way we were able to get a good view of the rocks in the space we call “The Tumble.” As you would expect our garden, perched as it is on the side of a mountain, is full of rocks of all sizes. Sometimes we think of Mountaintop as being a giant rock garden. The Tumble today was a perfect illustration of the way in which nature creates beauty even in the midst of the winter. The moss was a deep green. The rotting tree stump spoke to the age that it takes to weather into the sort of evocative nostalgia that makes the winter garden so worth exploring.
On our way back to the house we clambered past the nooks and crannies that provide perfect cover for our animal friends as they pass the winter months. Somewhere in there is our bear, our frequent visitor in the summer months.
Even though we all feel that January is a beginning it’s better to think of it as a continuation. Nothing actually stops. The appearance of sleep is simply everything taking a deep breath before the rush of the growing season. The pace may be slow and the sun low in the sky, but there’s an excitement in the expectation of the year ahead. This is the time to plan and gather resources for the growing season. This year, for instance, we will be planting our new willow hedge and lifting and dividing plants in our hot garden. The trial garden will need to accommodate those extra plants that need a new home before we move them somewhere else.
Then there’s the usual questions that crop up every year and are best dealt with before the pace gets too busy. Do the banana plants need larger pots? Where will the tree ferns go when we move them outside? Do we have enough containers for the plantings we have planned? Have our dahlia tubers survived the cold? Lists. This is the time of year to make lists.
January. It is the start of a new year. But it is also the continuation of the gardening cycle. Yes, it provides an opportunity to admire the moss on the rocks or to listen to the rushing stream, but it is also a time to store up energy. After all, it’s only a couple of weeks until we plant our seeds in those new root trainers we just bought.
January. The excitement is already building.