Monday, December 7, 2009

Snow Blossoms in a Garden Lost Hunting Ground

The Blue Bird does not seem to mind that there is a storm brewing . . .  that soon his hunting ground will be covered by a thick covering of cold snow. Then again . . . while preening . . .  perhaps he senses the coming loss of his life of leisure,  and once satisfied with his cleanliness . . .  he takes a few moments to admire the landscape and all the open terrain.

It is not long before the sky pulls the covers up over the face of the sun and thousands and thousands of tiny carefully crafted flakes fill the air and begin to stick on ground, trees and shrubberies. Carey Hill and the distant mountain ranges are erased from view as the thick white curtain falls incessantly from day into night.

As the sun sets in the west the moon soon rises in the east, shouting out its mirrored light from behind the racing clouds. It is as if the moon is tossed about in a turbulent sea. Casting its hidden light not as bright all through the long blue night.

The Blue Birds must be huddled together under green boughs of Hemlock and Pine or in a vacant cavity in an old tree, embraced in feathery friendship for warmth and safety. Flocks of Juncos may be perched one by one upon a branch wearing white night caps. I should love to see them all in their hiding places and know they are safe and tight, for the their journey through the snowy night.

On an evening such as this, I turn on the outside lights. It is pure magic to gaze out the windows, while all cozy from the warm fire and see the falling snow and transformation of naked trees, shrubs and perennials, as their garments of white are stitched together one perfect flake, or in some cases clusters, at a time. The garden is dressed in a lacy mantle of snow blossoms unique to each plant form.

The first blush of dawn reveals a wondrous winter landscape. I find myself out in the midst of it, whilst the sun rises over the Mount Holyoke Range. With each step I draw a path through the gardens and I hope you will follow my snow prints in a couple of days to see the land and gardens all dress in white.

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