In January, the garden’s color palette is decidedly brown.  Buds formed late last summer and fall on the lilac and other spring-blooming shrubs are far too small for their greenness to be easily seen.  And while the grass in neighbors’ yards is still remarkably colorful this year, I’ve eliminated my lawn, replacing it with mulched beds and meadow.  More brown.  The azaleas and a few young pines by the wood line offer only small splashes of color.

Still, I don’t mind the mostly monochromatic scene.  Snow will come soon (it always does this time of year), and the garden will be coated in a layer of white, with trees and shrubs dressed in seasonal lace.  My garden will look lovely during its months of rest.  In late March, the brown uglies will arrive, along with mud season.  I look forward to the mud and muck since it signals the arrival of spring. 

For now, I’ll settle back and think of spring and all the chores that will suddenly be marked urgent on my to-do list.  As the temperature rises, the ground thaws.  Spring bulbs will burst forth and bloom.  The buds on trees and shrubs will swell.  Leaves will open, early flowers begin to form.  Beds will need to be tidied, winter damage repaired.  Then comes my favorite part:  trips to the nursery and bringing home a trunk full of plants. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself. 

While the garden sleeps through January and February, I plan. 

I’m thinking of planting a three sisters bed this year.  I’ve never grown corn before, so it should be interesting—especially with deer residing in the woods bordering my property.  Perhaps I can come up with some creative fencing ideas before planting time to discourage their interest.  And there are plants that need to be replaced for one reason or another, others that need to be divided, and new beds to put in.  Before that, there are seeds to be started and online orders to place. 

There’s one project I’ll leave to the professionals:  a Norway maple (an invasive species) shades a prime planting area in my yard.  I’d like it gone, letting the sun shine in on this rare flat section of my hilly yard.  I’ll bring the volunteers that have overgrown much of this area under control and erect some raised beds.  I may change my mind by spring, but right now I’m thinking of planting perennial fruits and vegetables in this area.  That’s the beauty of winter:  there’s time to dream as well as plan.

The new year brings with it traditions of celebration and self-reflection.  New year’s resolutions abound.  I’d rather think about spring and the lengthening days.

January in the garden might not look like much. but, oh, the possibilities 2024 brings.

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