I don't know exactly when the holiday garden decorating bug struck but it was sometime in the last five years. It started innocently enough: I stuck some evergreen branches in some dirt and it looked nice all winter long. Ever since, the holiday garden has been getting more and more elaborate.
This is one of two big urns sitting on the back porch. Our kitchen has lots of windows facing the deck and yard so it's nice to see these every time I look outside. I have to confess: I had these urns done up for me by a pro. I have always felt that my urn and window box designs, while nice, were somehow lacking. Something was missing. I'm beginning to realize that my perceived design shortcomings could easily be remedied with just a little extra material. Next year, I'm doing it all on my own. I love the way the urns (and the window box below) look but I'm really looking forward to the chance to put my personal stamp on them.
The window box at the front of the house looks great at this time of year. So lush and green in our grey, grey winters. During the summer months, this window box is inevitably a bust. If the squirrels don't destroy what's planted there, the drought will. This is not an easy window box to water. It's not easy to reach and it's altogether too easy to forget about. Perhaps fake plants for the summer will do the trick. Who would know? Or would that disqualify me as a legitimate gardener?
The woodland garden has provided a benefit I didn't anticipate: now I can decorate the two serviceberry shrubs and the eastern redbud for the Christmas season. The woodland walk looks especially pretty in the early morning sun when the ornaments sparkle.
The holiday garden will stay in place until about March, right about the time I start wondering how much longer the cruel, cruel winter can last (regardless of what the calendar says, winter weather can persist well into April 'round these parts.) Until then I'll enjoy the greenery, faux fruit and designer berries. After all, it just wouldn't feel like the holiday season without my holiday garden.