“The seed is in the ground
and now may we rest in hope
While darkness does its work”
~Wendell Berry
So far this winter in Eastern Ontario can be characterized by its long deep freezes, lack of sunshine, freezing rain and heavy snow. Thousands have suffered through power outages, burst pipes and cars in ditches. I hear a lot of people praying for spring already or wishing they were somewhere down south. I see signs of cabin fever setting in and the gardeners I know are getting twitchy as their seed catalogues start to arrive.
I like to approach winter with as much equanimity as I can muster, but flipping through my foraging books in February can make me antsy enough to go out and dig under the snow looking for the first appearance of stinging nettle shoots. So I’ve developed a few strategies over the years to move more smoothly through the long dark season of winter.
and now may we rest in hope
While darkness does its work”
~Wendell Berry
So far this winter in Eastern Ontario can be characterized by its long deep freezes, lack of sunshine, freezing rain and heavy snow. Thousands have suffered through power outages, burst pipes and cars in ditches. I hear a lot of people praying for spring already or wishing they were somewhere down south. I see signs of cabin fever setting in and the gardeners I know are getting twitchy as their seed catalogues start to arrive.
I like to approach winter with as much equanimity as I can muster, but flipping through my foraging books in February can make me antsy enough to go out and dig under the snow looking for the first appearance of stinging nettle shoots. So I’ve developed a few strategies over the years to move more smoothly through the long dark season of winter.
I highly recommend winter botanizing. Observing plants in winter has given me a whole new appreciation of the cold months, not to mention a unique understanding of the plants themselves. In winter, trees and what remains of plants above ground and above the snow are pared down to their essence. The seemingly impenetrable wall of green has died back leaving what remains in stark contrast. There is a surprising amount of beauty in brown stems, withered leaves and curled bracts. There is plenty of colour too once you start looking closely.
One of my favourite botanical guides is Season of Promise: Wild Plants in Winter, Northeastern United Sates, by June Carver Roberts. There are over 250 drawing of plants in winter along with descriptions and information about how the plants survive in winter. It is a delightful read at any time of the year.
Of the Evening Primrose Roberts writes, “The stout, erect stem is simple or branching, with soft hairs that usually wear off over winter…This sturdy stalk persists until spring, the many brown seeds offering birds, especially goldfinches, an important source of fall and winter food. The stalk and root, having completed their role for the species, decompose, releasing their nutrients into the soil to provide food for soil creatures-nature recycles.”
Goldenrod can be easy to ID in winter, especially when the galls are present. Plant galls are formed from abnormal tissue growth by the plant in response to fungi, bacteria, insects and parasites. Goldenrod is susceptible to three different types of galls. Below are goldenrod ball galls. They are home to the goldenrod gall fly larva, a parasitic insect that overwinters in a gall, by producing a chemical in its body similar to anti-freeze. When the larva hatches into a adult in the spring it escapes through a tunnel the larva dug in the fall.
Alas, the gall fly doesn’t always get the chance to complete its lifecycle. Chickadees and woodpeckers are fond of the juicy snack they know is waiting inside and will break into the galls.
Herbalist 7Song says that if the hole is wider on the inside than the outside, there’s a good chance the fly was able to tunnel out, but if the hole is wider on the outside than in, the fly has likely become a meal. I suspect the poor larva in this gall found its way into the belly of a hungry bird.
Something I look forward to every winter is planting seeds. I’m not talking about starting my leeks and onions indoors in February or March though. I like to winter sow. Winter sowing is a technique of sowing seeds in covered containers and leaving them outside in the winter to be exposed to the elements and cycles of freezing and thawing. This method is particularly well suited to plants that require stratification or cold treatment for germination. Many wild plants and medicinal herbs do well under these conditions and I have my seed packets and recycled containers set aside ready to be planted in the next couple of days.
A new experiment I’m trying this year, is to grow a little bit of food inside under lights. An organic sweet potato sprouted on me in the fall. I took the sprouts and rooted them in water and planted them into pots, where I’ve now got them under lights. The lights are on a timer set to be on only during off-peak hours. The plants seem to be thriving and the edible leaves should be ready for a harvest very soon. I also planted a couple of beet tops and an onion that had sprouted some leaves. I don’t expect to get more than a meal or two out of it all, but it’s fun to think of having even a little bit of fresh, homegrown food for the table in the dead of winter. It’s a meal I’m really looking forward to.
Something I look forward to every winter is planting seeds. I’m not talking about starting my leeks and onions indoors in February or March though. I like to winter sow. Winter sowing is a technique of sowing seeds in covered containers and leaving them outside in the winter to be exposed to the elements and cycles of freezing and thawing. This method is particularly well suited to plants that require stratification or cold treatment for germination. Many wild plants and medicinal herbs do well under these conditions and I have my seed packets and recycled containers set aside ready to be planted in the next couple of days.
A new experiment I’m trying this year, is to grow a little bit of food inside under lights. An organic sweet potato sprouted on me in the fall. I took the sprouts and rooted them in water and planted them into pots, where I’ve now got them under lights. The lights are on a timer set to be on only during off-peak hours. The plants seem to be thriving and the edible leaves should be ready for a harvest very soon. I also planted a couple of beet tops and an onion that had sprouted some leaves. I don’t expect to get more than a meal or two out of it all, but it’s fun to think of having even a little bit of fresh, homegrown food for the table in the dead of winter. It’s a meal I’m really looking forward to.
So even with a few feet of snow on the ground and frigid temperatures outside I can still manage to get dirt under my nails and fresh food on my plate, waiting hopefully for the darkness to do its work on the seeds I’ve planted in this season of promise.