There was not a single solitary flake of snow on the ground a mere eight miles from home. None. Zilch. It was like I had descended from a wholly separate realm.
All of the new Yucca filamentosa planted on the slope below the cozy cabin were completely buried. Not a single frozen spike was to be seen. Those up top along the drive were poking through because the howling winds had blown the snow into drifts across the drive. Talk about winter interest. These yuccas are not perennials that turn to mush and die to the ground in the winter. They are evergreen.
If I am going to live up in this high realm, I most assuredly need things that can poke up through the snow.