Winter

That seems to be the theme for the rest of the week.

Intermission

Every once in a while someone comes along and reads all of Outside Clyde from the beginning and never says a word. It takes weeks to do it. Someone is doing that right now. It makes me wonder.

I know they are checking in to the present. That's nice, because I am ready to show the garden. Yesterday afternoon was a nice intermission between rain and snow. It was an approach to the needed conditions.

The right day will come.

The garden in winter is a being unto itself. There is much to see.

Because I made it so.

Then there was a fresh dollop of snow.

Pacing

The blood is beginning to stir.

I've been out walking

After mid day, not midnight.

Mostly I'm looking and stretching.

Not much of anything is being done.

It's a warm up.

For after the next batch of snow.

Winter is still with us.

Yet the stirring begins.

I need forty five and no wind.

Precipitation is the undoing.

And the next round of winter rolled in.

Listen To The 'Aina

Me bad. I did not get much done on a useable winter day. I barely reached a state of puttering.

I wandered around pretending it was the first time I had ever been here. How did wandering like that feel?

A  little path definition is in order. I know where they are by feel.

Others could get lost and not know where to turn.

I'm never fond of the hairball in the fire pit. That had to go. Should I plan to have a real fire when the weather and a good day coincide?

According to the diagnosis winter is not done. I may be forced to use that pencil and erasure by the stack of forms this week. That is fine. I just need a nice intermission in the coming weeks.

The longer it takes, the more snowdrops and Witch Hazels there will be.

A Long Time Peasant Gardener

I am a long time peasant gardener for the well to do with a bit of Fred Sanford in him. The two go well together. What can I say. I just kept doing the next right thing and this is what came out. There was no plan.

How do you plan a fantasy?

What must the neighbors think?

It's crept up on them over a decade. Maybe they anticipate the annual unveiling.

I do.

Because I have a garden 365 days a year just like I did on Maui.

With plenty rocks. I like rocks.

I goofed off by staying home on a nice sunny winter day. My project was starting the cleanup of the roadside vegetable garden. It really must get a fresh load of wood chip mulch this year. The vegetable garden is turning feral.

The winter Under Garden extends all the way up to the scenic byway. I don't spend near as much time up there as I used to. To me that is a sign my gardening efforts are succeeding. Less work. I did begin the chop down of the lesser plants.

I have many acres to go in the next month.

My Eyes

I'm beginning to think my camera has cataracts too. Or cold air has a different consistency for light refraction. Or is full of smoke I can't smell. Everything is enveloped in a barely perceptible perpetual fog. My eyes!

That would be my right eye to you that comes out first.

Imperceptible fog or not, if they see it, they will talk about it amongst themselves.

Now I watch for the weather and a good weekend day to coincide.

A Trip Through The Under Garden

You're on your own. Click on a picture for a slide show.

'Jelena' is in the house.

Snow drops have commenced.

It is near time to start the big chop and drop. Two more acres in that direction.