A monthly diary of activities in Susan’s Garden.
Photo heavy, text light, following a natural timeline.
As in March, when the buds burst forth, nurtured by the soil and sun, whose light intensifies with each passing spring day, so in December, when the garden slides slowly into sleep, the leaves fallen, the remains of earlier harvests return to the earth, decaying. But not without cause, providing protection from whatever hardship the winter months might inflict and replenishing those nutrients for next year.
We leave Susan’s garden at the end of the year, le mazet dappled in gentle winter sunlight, a caulifower, unused, showing the signs of this decay; fallen tomatoes slowly sinking into the fabric of the land; the compost heap, still bright from the last trimmings, ready to produce next year’s mulch.
There are no projects for now, no work calling out for attention. Oh, there are bees buzzing around the medlar and its late blossom. But Susan’s thoughts have rightly turned to family and friends and festivity. She will be back when the garden is fully at rest, trees to be trimmed, soil turned, the few remaining winter vegetables to be harvested.
I look forward to joining her then, for the final push that will take us to March, the cycle complete: a Year in Susan’s Garden.