Silent Night

With 9 or 10 inches on the ground already, and another 6 predicted to fall overnight, it should be a silent night.

Except for when the plows roll through.

Against the snow

Not the best photo, but I like the stark contrast that these astilbe create against the snow.

Still waiting

Winter is receding, but Spring hasn't arrived just yet.

Winter Interest

Blackberry lily blooms in August. Six months later, it's still catching my eye.

Patiently Waiting

Stone soldier that didn't get put away last fall.

Frost

This kind of frost forms around storm drains when it's very cold.

Snow Bound

A glimmer of orange under the snow.

One of my neighbor's has a thing for putting little plastic animals on dowels, and sticking them in her lawn. It's her way to commit random acts of public art, or something like that.

Frozen Stiff

Brr. It's cold outside. A couple days ago, Lileks demonstrated that you could freeze an egg on the sidewalk.

Me, I like to freeze my pants.

Yes, the jeans are frozen stiff, and they stand on their own. If you were to tap them, they'd make a thunk.

More photos posted on Flickr.

A few years back, the kids and I made a family of these frozen, invisible people. That was before we had a digital camera. Finding that photo would be like finding one piece of hay in a pile of haystacks.

Wake me up when Winter ends

Hardy geranium is still poking through the snow here and there in this patch of boulevard garden, but it's about to be buried under snow for three or four months. The blackberry lily in the foreground is 2 or 3 years old. Back left is a a heuchera or heuchurella I transplanted early in the fall. I like how its seed heads look against the snow.

High winds and low temps delivered a light, powdery six inches of snow Saturday, the first day of December.

This blanket of snow should last for a while. The forecast calls for continued cold temperatures and two more snowfalls this week. That's good news for the garden.

Snow offers a nice insulating blanket to the garden. The goal is not to try to keep the garden warm, but to prevent the soil from repeated cycles of freezing and thawing. Snow cover also prevents the drying effects of wind and sun.

The city plows added to the snow cover along the street.

Winter's Last Stand

The sun grows stronger. The birds are starting to return.

Spring may be in the air, but it's not on the ground. We've got more than a foot of snow, with much more mounded along sidewalks and driveways. Tonight, the temperature will drop into the single digits (on the Fahrenheit scale, that is).

Brrr. All this after we'd been teased by a few late February days with highs in the 40s.

Winter was fairly mild this year, with only a few days of below-zero temperatures. Snow cover was minimal. I don't expect much winter kill, except among the late transplants. I moved a lot of plants last fall. Truth be told, some of them got put in really late. I'm anxious to see what survives.

Looking out over the blanket of snow, I'm reminded of the Philip Larkin poem, First Sight. Here in this "wretched width of cold," we wait for "Earth's immeasurable surprise."

What so soon will wake and grow
Utterly unlike the snow.

UPDATE: Same scene, one week later. The sun rules.