Sounds ominous: "the dead of winter." To be honest, I'm not quite sure what that idiom means. I assume that it refers to the middle of the winter season, time wise. I don't think it applies to the flora since everyone knows they're just dormant, waiting for mid-March to spring back into life. But again, I'm not sure. Maybe the "dormant of winter" just doesn't sound so chilling. Who knows? Someone I'm sure, but not me. So, assuming that it is a time appellation, everyday now--early February--I walk the Acres in "the dead of winter."
This winter, however, hasn't been quite so dead in many ways. So far. It hasn't been terribly cold--only one day in the single digits. We've had some snow here in Morrow County, but it hasn't lasted very long, unlike last winter when it snowed before Thanksgiving, and I think the ground was white until April. We even had a tremendous ice storm. And cold. This winter, however, has been, and is currently, not very cold or flaky. But, of course, we have six weeks to go officially. And I can remember significant snow as late as April and cold snaps in the first weeks of May. So the final "verdict" is not in yet.
As I walk this time of year, though, snow-cold or dry-warm, I enjoy my treks. Just walking the Acres is good exercise for my old arthritic bones and aging heart I'm sure. It always takes awhile. Remember: "walk slowly" is the Acres' motto. And this time of year has it's uniqueness. The ground, even though it's been rather warm (less cold anyway), is quite frozen. Hard as cement at times. It's also easy to see what things need to be accomplished before spring arrives and where new shrubs or trees would fit nicely for next year's improvements. In addition, the snow we have had has "pushed down" much of the old growth; I can see all the way through my neighbor's pine "forest" by this time of year. I am tempted to sneak over there for a peak. Okay. I confess. I'm guilty of trespassing. It is so quiet and calm under those trees even on the windiest days. I can see why the deer enjoy it there.
Jobs that need to be done before spring? I have several trees--small--that have to give way to the saw. Some small trees have to go that are coming up in the rock garden right next to the house. I cut those down every winter, but they return for another "battle." I have a couple of scraggly pine trees that I want to remove so the flower beds next to them can get more light. There are also a number of trees coming up in the midst of the huge conifer in the front of the property. I want to get rid of the competition. Wish I had a chain saw, but I don't, so Iten power will have to do. The exercise won't hurt me, and I'd probably lose a hand or a foot to a chain saw being the oaf that I am with tools. Another pre-spring chore is hauling all the fallen limbs back to the brush pile in the wild area. Eventually, the pile will be large enough to provide shelter in the winter for the creatures that make their home here. I have some holes to fill as well. A muskrat has made my pond his home this winter, and my canine friends have been eagerly digging holes in hopes of having that elusive muskrat meal. Muskrat love it is not. If I don't fill the holes, my lawn mower will get stuck come spring and summer. The outlaw gang has been very persistent in their pursuit. You would think that they were dogs or something. . . oh, wait. . .
And this winter as I walk I have kept an apprehensive eye on the flower beds and other areas where I know flowers have been planted--naturalized. The poor things have been befuddled by the warm weather. Now the pussy willow is always full of buds, so I don't worry about it--at least the monster bush by the pond. And there are other plants that stay green all winter as well: Lenten roses, mountain laurel, dwarf conifers, iris, rhododendron, azalea (more red than green), and primrose to name a few. But as early as January this year, I have had daffodils coming up. And now, tulips, hyacinth, lilies--particularly the pink ladies, and the crocus are emerging. I suppose that's normal for the crocus, but still I fret. Oh me of little faith. I'm sure such winters have occurred countless times over the years and all has been well. But . . . Anyway, such things occupy my searching eyes as I walk. And, of course, the sin of anticipation has already set in as I imagine what new things will pop up this spring in the places where I planted them last fall. The old mind churns as the old feet walk. Oh, and winter lovers (like myself) don't worry: no forsythia yet so according to the old legends we have at least three snows to come!
Anyway, all of this is just to say that walks in "the dead of winter" are actually quite lively. Things to see. Work to imagine. (I may even do some of it.) Fears to assuage. Exercise for the mind, the body, and even the soul.
