Within this mid-point of winter, a bit of the garden still endures: these dried umbrels of Sedum ‘Autumn Joy’ seen in the afternoon sunlight, caged by the shadows of the stalwart cup plant stalks. Blue snow echoing blue sky, and in this winter landscape that once formed the floral border beside the pool, the invincibility of summer shone through the deep freeze.
This is still the golden hour, come summer or snow, and it retains a different kind of magic now. The shadows are more pronounced, less hazy. Maybe the snow lends a crispness to it, a way of sharpening the light.
As the hour progresses, and the sun lowers itself in the sky, colors grow deeper, the world gets more saturated, and the myth of winter as a colorless bore is confronted and confounded. The little forest of sedum flower-heads stands defiantly against the snow and wind. I admire their resilience, their tough and unyielding stance. Once upon a time I feared I would bend or break in the face of such adversity. Now, I follow the sedum’s example and stand in the winter wind. A cloak is all I need.
