December 21, 2019 – Winter Garden Notes

         It has been too cold to go out and finish the raking of the leaves – or perhaps I should re-phrase that as I have a leaf blower and a leaf chopper now.  It is noisy, by I like to suck up the leaves and then put the leaf mulch in the flowerbeds.  Time consuming, like all leaf raking, but at least the flower beds will like the extra mulch.

         The last thing I did when I was walking around my property today was check on the dried Maidenhair grasses, now corkscrewing and bronzy, check on the defoliated jungle of Kudzu, now a tangle of brown vines that will need to be dealt with in January or February, and check on my Camellia bush down behind the Zen garden.  

          The camellia bush is covered in buds – on just about every tip and should have good late winter blooms this year – if the temperatures are not too harsh.  I have only that one bush and it is large now, probably a 12 foot diameter footprint and is chest high.  It is a red, a pinky red.  I don’t worry about it anymore, unlike the first few years I thought it needed to be coddled. What did I know – having been brought up in New England.

         Later, thawing out with a cup of hot tea I pull the magazines on my lap and I was delighted with the December edition of Southern Living that had both Magnificent Magnolias by Ann Patchett and Camellias, Winter’s Surprise by Frances Mayes, on pages 187 and 193 respectively.

         As an avid gardener, I appreciate garden writers.  Sometimes they put into words what I can’t.  A perfect example is writer, Ann Patchett, who opens her article, Magnificent Magnolias, with the following:

         “It’s thought that magnolia trees were here before bees. Sit with that for a while.”

         Let me repeat that short little sentence that is a masterpiece, Sit with that for a while.  Let that line seep into your soul.  What better way to describe a gardener’s awe at God’s hand in the garden, in your garden.

         Later on she discusses they planted a “Little Gem” in their backyard which is threatening their garage.

         When we arrived at this new house, my Mom sent me money for “trees” so that I would “put down roots”.  I, being raised in New England, was unfamiliar with Magnolia trees when I first moved to the South.  Their large shiny leaves on one side and brown velvet likeness on the other side, I fell in love 'at hello'.  

         With my Mom’s tree money, I too bought a ‘Little Gem’ as Mom was small in stature and she was a Little Gem in her own right.  But, I gave my Little Gem the whole side yard to look magnificent.  I can glimpse it from my master bath window and no one can miss it when they drive past my house, unless they have their eyes closed.

         To this day, I have been unable to describe its blossom’s fragrance, so I simply snap off the first blossom from my tree every spring and hand it to my husband.  

         Now that my ‘Little Gem’ magnolia is 21 years old, I dare to snap off a couple end branches to tuck into the live green arrangements that decorate the front of my house at Christmas time.

         Meanwhile, the article by Frances Mayes entitled, Camellias, Winter’s Surprise also had the depth of an avid gardener. She lives in a 1806 North Carolina farmhouse.

         “They still bloom brilliantly but tarnish quickly, gracing the ground with a tapestry of fallen flowers.” 

         Frances Mayes has captured the after bloom splendor of the camellia blossoms that have fallen on the leaf litter below the shrub.  I thought it was just me noticing how pretty that is, but, alas, I am not alone.

         She also captured the sound of the birds with “bistro, bistro” and “T-shirt, T-shirt” that are spot on.  For years, I've thought one bird which sings in my yard calls out, “beef-eater, beef-eater”.

         As we head into the first day of winter on December 22^nd, I look forward to the not too far off day that I will be cutting of an armful of blooming Camellias branches, bringing them into the kitchen and trimming them to fit into a stout vase that I will set on the end table beside my easy chair.

         Good gardening to you, and if it is too cold outside, good garden reading to you.