The garden emerges from the snow
Could it be? The snow is melting at last. And boy this has been a long week. I ventured out this afternoon with my camera to record the miracle of seeing brown again. One can tire of endless vistas of white.
Actually the excitement started this morning when I opened the shutters and thought it was raining. Incessant dripping was pattering onto the terrace; and I realised it was the snow melting from the roof.
Hallelujah. No more death trap icicles to worry about. That is a hangover from all those years of living in Moscow – we lived in dread of the irony (and the pain) of being impaled by falling icicles from buildings. A handful of people were killed that way every winter. And I have been stepping smartly around the icicles close to the roof near the front door for a week.
It is still much too cold to actually work outdoors. Each morning I consult my A4 sized garden list, sigh, and put it away. But soon, I hope there will be more on the action front and less on the gazing wistfully out at a wintry landscape.
One creature who is back to his routine is Artur. He has reclaimed ‘his’ potting shed now that the snow has been shovelled off the clear polycarbonate roof. And he has settled down to a new location. A cardboard box lined in a freshly laundered sweater.
He stays in the box to catch the morning sun, and then moves over to the other side for his afternoon snoozing. I have covered all my plants under this most attractive fleece blanket. And note the small cashmere sweater nest right in the middle.
I have given up scolding him for sleeping on my seedlings. He’s never going to change the habits of years. Now I just clear him a space and set up a comfortable blanket or sweater and he leaves the plants alone.
I must say that I miss him terribly after his three days inside our home. We were cat sitting for Jean Daniel and as he was away, we had to keep him safe and warm from the storm. I couldn’t leave him in the cold potting shed on his own. And he took to inside living with such alacrity. Snoozing in front of the fire. Moving to a chair in my office when he overheated and needed somewhere cooler to perch. And the snoring and purring that kept me smiling whenever I caught sight of the little bundle of fluff all curled up and happy.
Boy do I need my own, full time pet. But that can’t happen if I have to travel to London every month. It was a wrench to walk him back to his home through the melting snow.
leslie
28th January 2015 @ 1:43 pm
dearest lindy,
lovely to see your new website-its great and so colourful-happy belated new year;sorry I have been off grid but a few family obstacles to overcome-am feeling much better now;I can see you are there now-we are knee deep in snow and its beginning to melt but more is due tomorrow-I have been reading GI and getting excited about making an iris garden.managed to lay my hands on some sale tulip bulbs which I really need to plant in the next week or so for here and at rast and the local epicerie.my cousin and family are coming to stay on 13th feb just for one week and I have booked an old farm house for 4 days for skiing at les estables for them-should be fun.thank you so much for your card you sent for my grandma.
love to you both and artur-we have gained another lost kitty(well she appeared on our door step just before christmas) who lives in the cave as pushkin will not have her in the house yet.