On Christmas Day, it was sunny and 70-something degrees here in Atlanta, and there was a moment when I was sitting outside, and I was tempted to come back in and grab my big box of seeds and start planting. Of course, here I am four days later, and we're going down in the twenties tonight, so the seeds I had in mind wouldn't have gotten very far.
That's an urge I fight nearly every Christmas, though. Okay, the holidays are over, let's move on to spring.
But the older I get and the more gardening experience I gain, the more I realize that winter — as dull, gray, and miserable as she is — is just as important a gardening season as the other three. She might not be as showy, but don't let the quiet fool you. She's resting up to put on the greatest show on the planet, and we're lucky enough to get to watch it every year.
Here in Georgia, I can typically grow a few select items year-round, like carrots, onions, lettuce, and other greens. Some brassicas, if the deer — or my chickens and ducks — don't eat them. Select herbs. There are also certain flowers I can plant here during the winter that will pop right up the moment spring makes an appearance. Some of them need a cold spell to germinate and thrive — I'm determined to make larkspur happen this year. Elsewhere, I know people take advantage of cold frames, tunnels, and greenhouses to grow year-round.
Truthfully, though, winter gives us an opportunity to slow down and prepare our gardens — and ourselves — for the warmer months ahead.
For humans, it's a time to reflect on the last year and plan for the one to come. What worked and what didn't? What did you grow that you'll never grow again? What did you not get around to planting that you want to prioritize for next year? You might decide you want to add new beds or move your garden to a new location completely. You might consider crop rotation. One of my favorite aspects of "winter gardening" is sitting with my aforementioned box of seeds and taking inventory, plus making a list of what I need to order for the new year. I may or may not have never met a seed catalog that I didn't love.
For those who still want to be outside doing something physical, it's the perfect time to clean and sharpen your tools, mend and build fences and barriers, and build new raised beds. You can test your soil, work on a compost pile, and mulch your beds if that's something you do (I tend to let nature do that for me — I do not rake leaves). But because you have several months, you can do these tasks at your leisure.
Speaking of nature, it needs that cold rest period, too. The cooler temperatures may kill off the diseases and pests that harassed last year's garden. May. That doesn't seem to be the case here in Atlanta. The moment we hit 70, every mosquito in the state reappears ready to feast on our bodies.
Again, many plants need a period of cold weather to germinate or to build up the strength to grow and bloom in the spring. Soil also needs a period of rest so that the tiny organisms within can break down organic matter and rebuild nutrients.
Even snow is beneficial to the garden... if you live in a place where you get some. It adds nitrogen to the soil, insulates plants and roots, and prevents crazy temperature fluctuations within the soil.
There are also benefits to leaving the remnants of your garden in place for the winter, unless you have had some sort of disease or pest outbreak. It's wonderful for your soil, as it can prevent erosion and provide more organic matter on which those tiny organisms can feed. It might also create a small habitat for important wildlife. And it's kind of pretty, in my opinion. I've got one bed full of dried zinnias that I walk past and smile at almost every day.
Most importantly, however, winter serves as a reminder that we must take time to slow down and rest, even if a warm sunny day makes us anxious to get started on our plans for spring. It's been that way since the beginning of time, even if it doesn't feel like it these days.
I saw something on Instagram the other day that pointed out that all of this technology, the internet, AI, smartphones, scrolling, social media, etc. — combined with the idea we must be productive 24/7 — is actually forcing people to step back, slow down, and say, "I don't want to live like this anymore." I'd say that's a good thing. A healthy thing. I feel it myself more and more each year.
When we're lost, I think we can usually find the answers we seek in nature, and the need for rest and dormancy is right there in our gardens every year.
It's also an important theme in our Bibles. One of my favorite verses is Exodus 34:21: "Six days you shall labor, but on the seventh day you shall rest; even during the plowing season and harvest you must rest." I've actually got a little metal sign that says that hanging on my wall, serving as a reminder.
So instead of cursing the cold and attempting to plant things too early this year, I think I'm going to sit back and let winter do its thing. Sure, I'll piddle. I do want to get some greens and flower seeds in the ground next week, and my animals have knocked down some of my fencing, but I'll fix it a little at a time. I can't promise I won't kick back in my house with some seed catalogs and my own seed inventory, plotting and planning and dreaming, but that doesn't take much effort.
After all, spring is going to show up no matter what I do, and it will be here before we know it. I'd rather greet it with enthusiasm and eagerness than be too tired and burned out to enjoy it.
