The Winter Garden

Post 62

Now is dark, grubby winter. The garden, at its best, looks like a better sort of shite. Part of it's my fault, autumn illness nixed autumn clean-up and hence all the rotting leaves and stuck up stems blowing hither, yon and yore. But part of it's winter's fault, a season which can rarely be accused of doing its best to woo you.

The weird thing is that there really is some beauty here.

Hoarfrost helps.

As does light,

 Especially when the fingers of the dawn are slightly rosy.

 Flowers also help, even small ones,

And berries,

Plus an appreciation for texture and design.

But even an appreciation for texture and design is not quite enough when neutrals start to pall,

 And one starts wishing for snow, or even better spring.

Or even some warmish days with extra time to do autumn clean-up.

There is beauty here, and taking pictures helps me to see it.

For that I am grateful.