Fine and Fit in February

Sixty-five for a high today and spirits soared. Last year as Thanksgiving and Christmas plans crowded my calendar, I happily left the garden to its own devices. The leaves did as they do, fell and turned brown, the flowers drooped and dried out or turned to a white fluff of seed (the anemones). So today, I talked J and P into joining me for some cleanup. P brought her new camera and picked up some wonderful patterns and textures in the dried grasses and seedpods. J pushed the mower over the leaves that I gathered and we diced them up and put them into the composters. Tiny green tips of the early crocuses were already coming up under the leaves. It is time to trim back the old plants but I haven't the heart. They still look beautiful so I think I'll leave them another few weeks. The bones of the garden were revealed as I racked away the leaves. I'm studying the place where the pachysandra grows so well in front of the vegetable garden and I'm starting to think of what else I might do with that space. It's a shame to tear out all that pachysandra, but that's what I'm thinking. The peach tree is looking robust, but the poor apple tree is crowded against the ornamental cherry tree. I wonder if I could transplant the tree. It would take a very strong back to dig it out. Down in the meadow the Joe Pye weed is a mess. The dried reeds are all which a way. I'll have to spend a whole day, I'm sure, hacking my way through there. Last year I just cut everything back and left the stems on the ground and a profundity of plants just grow through and around them. A tip: never do more than you have to. Cleaned up now and J and I are off to the movies. Tomorrow, 65 for a high again. I can't wait! The Putterer