In memory, snow fell all winter those first two years. Our backyard became a closet stuffed with bridal gowns, frothy white forms smothering every bush and tree. I loved the stacked inches atop the clean curves of honeysuckle, and the transformed hemlock, a dark Pegasus spreading white wings.

There’s no problem the wind and rain can’t solve, even the November wind and rain. The wind and rain can’t name the problem, can’t diagnose it, can’t prescribe, yet they can, shall we say, dissolve it.

A winter garden holds as much spring as spring itself, the way the pause before speech holds as much speech as the flow of words that follows.

Learn the old ways of the root cellar and enter your best winter root recipe in the upcoming Sustainable Living Workshop at the Yellow Spring United Methodist Church on February 11. I’ll be there to test your recipes, and the winner receives a gift certificate from New Liberty Farms.