Who says you can't smell the herbs in February? This weekend, I used all of these--sage, savory, lavender, leeks--and they were all all highly aromatic at 22 degree F.
Four more colorful sights seen during a 30-minute walk on a February day. In February, the sun is higher in the sky and plants really do start to come back to life. But these particular plants have more to offer the winter viewer than most.
Do you get hungry for bright colors in February? I do. In a 30-minute walk this week, I found three examples. The fourth example, winterberry, was showing its brilliant hues on a snowy day in January.
Dr. Mel Goldstein was a much-loved Connecticut weather reporter and meteorologist whose humorous touch and insightful forecasting endeared him to state audiences. He passed away in January 2012, a year after I read this book, his last. If he's watching us from up above in his beloved clouds, he's probably less surprised than most at the megastorms that have visited in the past few years.
Author Rhonda Massingham Hart takes on a very emotional topic in this book.
If you've got your ear to the ground in gardening and environmental circles, you've surely heard the rumblings that result from any discussion of native plants. What is a native plant, really? Why should we care? And what should be done about the undeniable fact that many, many invasive plants are taking up more and more space--and the ecological niches--of native plants worldwide?
Let's face it--for a northern gardener, the main attraction of a book on four-season growing is the discussion on winter.
What, where, or who is Gungywamp? To the ear, it is a funny name, half-Suessical and half-Germanic. The name is actually derived from the Pequot language, as the Pequot Indians lived here for a time. They were immigrants, of a sort, from upstate New York in the centuries just before European arrival.