Cold air, dark mornings, the path (through what my sons--when they were very small--used to call the secret passage) sugared with frost, and the air suddenly and improbably carrying a floral scent. I look around and there it is above a garden wall: Viburnum, its spheres of blossom a pale soft pink, doing in the middle of winter what honeysuckle does in the summer: stopping me in my tracks. It's a wonderful thing that Viburnum fragrance, mostly because it's there at a time when we least expect it, and also because, like any floral scent, it pulls you right into the moment. When you're looking for the source of a scent, when you've found it high in a summer hedgerow or over a cold wintry wall, when you bury your nose in a June rose, or get up close and personal with lily-of-the-valley in May, you're there and nowhere or nowhen else. And that's not a bad thing.
|Viburnum sp. Purveyor of winter scent|
|Hedera helix, fruits|
|Hedera, ('Gold Child'?) painted. Sort of.|
|How not to do ivies; how not to do variegation:|
Hedera 'Gold Heart' and Hedera colchica 'Paddy's Pride'
|Very sad alpines; oh the shame of it|
|Autumn-- no, Winter!--raspberries|
|Solstice wreath - Eleagnus and Allium|
|Festive wreath (by LB)|