We’ve had a taste of four seasons this fall in the Berkshires. Lovely warm days, snow flurries, rain, more snow (that actually stuck to the ground!), followed by torrential rain and wind, then milder days with barely a trace of snow left to be seen. And now, the 3 to 5 inches that were forecast to fall this weekend petered out and there’s a bit of white on the ground that’s sticking, but nothing more. By the end of the coming week and Christmas, who knows what nature will decide. It’s as though autumn and winter are playing tug-a-war with the weather.

For the time being, the ground hasn’t quite frozen, and the garden is past ready to be tucked in for the winter. Only my Butterscotch Rose is holding onto its leaves in defiance of the season, though they look very much the worse for the temperatures they’ve endured since November. It’s among the last of my garden tasks. I’ll soon be pruning its long canes back so I can wrap it in burlap for the winter. I just wish it would shed those leaves so I can check that task off my to-do list. It’s almost as though the Butterscotch Rose is as reluctant to accept the onset of winter as I am.

There’s still tidying to do, as well. I suppose those end of season tasks are left undone due in part to my unwillingness to concede to the inevitability of winter’s arrival. I will confess, winter ranks fifth out of the four seasons in my mind. But there’s no escaping it. Soon the white stuff will fall and won’t melt away any longer as it lands on the garden. 

Winter is inevitable. But then, so is spring.