Tuesday, December 07, 2010
That's a misleading headline and not what this post is really about. It's cold in the garden right now, and there's nothing I can do to cultivate warmth in it. Oh, I had grand plans for a little color in the garden this winter. Something to break up the grey, brown quiet of winter in my mainly perennial Portland garden. And this was it, as shown above. A hardy cyclamen in bright red, mulched with red glass, potted up and placed in my wire dress form sculpture. Situated just in view of a primary window, I'd be able to glance outside and my eye would catch on this, and I'd be filled with hope for the coming of Spring. Content, with this wee bit of color.
This is where we hear the ripping of the needle across the record.
My grand idea fell over in a windstorm a few weeks back. When I finally ventured into the garden to right it back up, it was apparent my red glass mulch was tossed every which way among the rotting leaves, and the hardy cyclamen was nowhere to be found. At least the form is standing back up, but there's no winter warmth sparkling inside its fallopian tubes. That's what I came to think of this piece once I had originally set it up. I don't think I'll use red as a color of blooms for it in the future.
There is hope, however. Yesterday I saw a whole troop of tiny bushtits fly across the way into our garden, flitting and fleeting among the branches of trees. Pride and/or Joy, our resident blue jays, are sticking around and we're happy to feed them through the winter. I've become quite fond of them. And speaking of fond, I watched as a chubby squirrel rambled along the twigs yesterday, and jumped back as he landed right on our window screen and ledge. Brave or stupid? Your pick.
Now where's my slippers?