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I am not an avid gardener like most of you,my husband is. I love gardens and plants as long as I don't have to dig. I used to before the arthritis set in. My favorite part was building stonewalls in my gardens. However, what I don't understand is the winter blues. Gardening is artistic. Winter is a beautiful artistic season. The burnt sienas, burnt umbers, greens, of course white, just a beautiful array of colors.A chance to see deep into the woods, the graceful web of branches, tracks in the snow and of course the stonewalls without the brush to hide them. There is nothing more beautiful then the diamond like ice crystals hanging from the trees, or on a really cold day when you can actually see the shape of each individual snowflake. If you are fortunate enough to live near a creek nothing compares to the water running beneath the ice the deep colors, the shapes formed. Speaking of shapes icicles have a beauty all their own . How can this be depressing? Look carefully and I think if you really look you will have a whole different outlook on winter.
The winter is beautiful, and I love its beauty, but when you live 4 months with little or no sun, even the beauty can become a hardship. We get 25 feet of snow here in the land of lake snows and the sheer volume makes everything, even walking between house and barn, difficult.
I might be crazy but I miss my days on the farm. We had cows, horse, sheep, pigs, the full range of farm animals. I am old enough to remember deep snow, really deep snow and really loved it. It was always a good work out, and a great adventure. I guess I am a winter person. The truth is I am more distraught in the summer. The heat really bothers me. I could never live in a hot climate.