There Are Gnomes In The Garden!

Gnomes. Makes you recall those all too familiar, garishly painted figures with pointy hats right? While these spirit creatures hark back to the 17th century and earlier, their presence today is viewed as somewhat naive and old-fashioned. Like gazing balls, they recall earlier times and are not commonly seen in today’s gardens. Truth be told, I myself have never been taken by them.

That is, until I recently came upon a modern take on gnomes at the Sullivan galleries in Chicago where highly talented, emerging ceramist August Brosnahan was debuting his gnome collection. And the creatures were getting a lot of attention and interest. Here is how Brosnahan describes his work –

I am interested in human interactions with objects and how objects help us relate to the world around us. Whether it be the handle of a mug or the facial expression on a figurative sculpture, these objects have unsaid and sometimes unnoticed methods of guiding us through spaces. Humans spend a tremendous amount of time interacting with clay and ceramic objects. I believe that humans have deep-seated connections with ceramics, more so than other materials, due to the rich history we share with clay. This mindset is central to the form and presentation of my work as I create intimate connections between viewers and the object.

Another element that is central to my practice is my love for walking. I have recently distanced myself from the white-walled gallery as I spend hours in forests and fields. A notable example of this is my ongoing series, “Gnomes.” I create small personified objects that preferably exist in an outdoor setting. Multiples of these objects create a community that viewers can interact with by walking through the same space that the gnomes exist in. I activate the space that the viewer is standing in rather than a space that the viewer is looking at. With my work I hope to re-invigorate the overlooked spaces of our day-to-day lives.”

I have long championed sculpture in the garden. Art in an outdoor space adds a new dimension and there is a shift in context that enriches the experience as opposed to seeing the same sculpture indoors. At this particular art show, I could clearly imagine how they might transform a garden or park. My curiosity to actually see that happen led to inviting the artist to show some of his work at my garden on Open Day.

So, five pieces were carefully packed and shipped to New York. I worked with Brosnahan on siting the gnomes in the garden and I’m really excited to share them with visitors on May 18th.

Meant for outdoor spaces, the seemingly whimsical pieces urge the viewer to consider the dynamics between all the elements in a space. The ceramic gnomes make one aware that there is an energy and presence beyond that which we can physically see or feel. They appear to blend into the background and yet, manage to surprise and be noticed. These sculptures maintain continuity in the human history of personifying natural and designed spaces. The impact is subtle and fresh. A modern twist to an old tradition.

Several weeks ago, I hinted that I was working on a new project in the garden – just for Open Day. This is it! I look forward to introducing you to the gnomes. See you in the garden on May 18.

Note: Open Day is less than two weeks away!

(c) 2019 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Garden Things

I’m in the thick of garden fever. Open Day is less than three weeks away. When I’m not actually in the garden, I’m thinking about it, perusing garden literature or talking about it. So much to consider – chores, plants, tips, new-to-me information, weather, wildlife, one’s own limitations ( physical, budget, time…), successes and failures. It’s never ending and I realize how tedious this can be for a non-gardener. A friend asked recently why gardeners always talked about the amount of work, the perils, trials and tribulations and then insisted on continuing the activity of gardening. How could I possibly convince her that those things are all part of the joy of gardening?!

It’s always exciting to learn something new and I’m happy to share. Maybe everybody is aware already but I discovered only recently that fritillaria are closely related to lilies. That in itself doesn’t make one sit up but here’s the reason to pay attention – they are just as attractive to the pretty but vile red lily beetle. Ugh. I’d all but stopped growing lilies because those horrid insects would always show up to ruthlessly decimate them. Now I have to worry about the many fritillaria I’m so happy to grow in the garden. Oy vay.

The somewhat low height ( 5 feet) at which the bluebird house is set up leaves it vulnerable to predators that can easily scramble up the metal pole to access the eggs/babies. It is worrisome and yet, the bluebirds prefer that open, low location. A coating of automotive grease along the length of the pole and over the copper covered roof helps enormously in deterring snakes, cats and squirrels. An easy solution like this always pleases me – fingers crossed it works.

All the stakes and supports are put in place before the plants are fully grown and it gets complicated to support them discretely. I also see this as a way to show the plants that I believe in their ability to reach their highest potential. Sly horticultural psychology.

Over the years, the labels marking the assorted apple and pear trees of the espalier had faded. It’s so easy to get lax about keeping things such as labels in order. At the espalier, it is particularly relevant to see which tree is bearing fruit and which is not. It might simply be an academic sort of accounting but I believe good gardening should come with a sound knowledge of what’s going on everywhere in the garden. I’ve now relabeled the fruit trees and must admit to an undeserving amount of satisfaction.

In my bid to tweak things a bit, I’ve moved around an object or two, refreshed a couple of walls with a lick of paint and replaced a feature with another. In the process, my own spirit has been tweaked and I’m in a much better frame of mind. Go figure.

And so it goes. Seemingly small investments of time, energy and resources but with nice dividends.

Note – Open Day is May 18th!

(c) 2019 Shobha Vanchiswar

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April Flowers

Almost overnight there’s been an explosion of blooms in these parts. The forsythia are having their spectacular moment with the magnolias keeping up rather impressively. And oh! the cherry blossoms! Taking the back roads to get around might be slow but the views of what’s doing in the countryside and private gardens are so worth it. I’m now about two inches taller from pausing to crane my neck to see more of what’s blooming over walls and fences. Undoubtedly, my car’s license number has been noted as it crawled suspiciously and even halted in front of some very grand homes with majestic gates and grounds. It must’ve looked like I was casing the neighborhood. I did stop short of taking photos lest they called the cops. All those gorgeous sights are now only in my head. Sigh.

About forsythia – in my humble opinion, they should never be neatly trimmed. They look their best when the sprays of flowers are naturally free and artistically unruly. The bohemians of the season.

Back in my own Eden, the hellebores continue to shine. The meadow is beginning to come alive with the minor bulbs. The snowdrops are fading but the scillas, crocuses and hyacinthoides are gently taking over. Early daffodils are in bloom and that shot of gold through the landscape is pure joy. Each day brings new bounty.

The freshly planted pansies have the sweetest faces – one cannot help but smile in response. In short order the primroses will be vying for attention. I’m also anticipating a blue-ing in the meadow – grape hyacinths, forget-me-nots, ajuga, iris reticulata … with white violas, and yellow daffodils and dandelions as counterpoint. That’s right, I said dandelions – they are not weeds in my meadow. Instead, they not only look like diminutive suns but they are some of the earliest sources of nectar for hummingbirds. So, get over your bias people!

Last Saturday was unseasonably mild and by Sunday, all sorts of plants had greened up and flowers popped open. It’s lovely to be given this chance to closely examine the beauties – all too soon, there will be such a profusion that it’ll be hard to keep up with the chores and linger around gazing at the blooms.

For now, I’m happily basking in the glow of early spring. With an occasional mojito in hand. Simple pleasures.

Note: Remember -My Open Day is May 18!

 

That last photo was taken at the NYBG last Saturday. It’s usually about 10 days ahead of my garden.

(c) 2019 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Sunday In The Garden

Last Sunday was a gift to this impatient gardener. Bright and sunny, temperatures in the mid-60s and a garden just waiting for a do-over. No bugs trying to feed on me, no place else to be. This was heaven.

With the scillas, hellebores, early crocuses and Abeliophyllum distichum ( white forsythia) in bloom, it felt as though I had a cheering squad. The air was gently scented by the Abeliophyllum – a bonus!

So many chores got done. The front lawn was scratched up, reseeded and layered over with compost. Lets hope no destructive rains occur till the grass comes up. A daily sprinkle for about an hour would be mightily appreciated.

A trip ( the first of the season! ) to my favorite nursery resulted in a host of plant purchases. A few perennials like Jacob’s Ladder, lungwort, unusual looking ajuga, dianthus and sweet woodruff, annuals such as pansies, nemesias and lobelias, potager must-haves – beets, Swiss chard, arugula, kale, lettuce. I helped myself to herbs as well – lavender, hyssop, lovage, bronze fennel, sage, thyme, tarragon, parsley, cilantro and one that I plan to use extensively through the spring and summer – Mojito mint. Yes, that is exactly what it is called.

The spring window-boxes were put up – daffodils, tete-a-tete and pansies. Urns and planters in various locations in the garden now sport similar plants to tie in the whole look.

The new ajuga accompany two young Japanese maples (also picked up at the nursery) in a large, copper container by the front door. The plan is for it to look elegantly understated through the seasons. I also stuck in some muscari to give it an early pop of color. Nothing flashy though – the window-boxes above take care of that. The urn nearby, also on the front porch, will echo both with its mix of the pansies and muscari.

The vegetables are esconsed in their bed looking fetching in diagonal rows in hues of deep plum, bronze and greens. The herbs are in terracotta pots that will go on the ‘herb wall’ but for now, until the weather truly warms up, they sit in the greenhouse biding their time.

My cherished Anduze pots with boxwood balls were brought out of the greenhouse and placed in their appropriate sites. Should a frost be imminent, they will be easy enough to protect with fleece and burlap. Other plants in the greenhouse will be brought out in a couple of weeks.

On the vertical garden, some ferns we had overwintered in the vegetable plot under a cover of burlap were put back on the wall. Fingers crossed this experiment will prove successful. If so, it’ll be a good development in our quest to preserve the ferns through the winter.

By days end, I felt so exhilarated. Good progress under very work-friendly circumstances renders a most delicious sense of satisfaction. At the same time, my muscles were tired and the back was sore. A hot shower followed by a tall mojito ( with eponymous mint ) in the embrace of a comfortable, plush chair was well deserved. I sincerely hope that said mint can keep up with all the drink orders to come.

Note: My Open Garden Day is May 18.

The reception to the New Horizons exhibit is this Sunday, April 14.

 

(c) 2019 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Hanging Out With Hellebores

Spring! It’s definitely staging a comeback. Where I reside, it’s not quite so obvious but the signs are there. The snowdrops are up. However, one has to look a bit harder to notice that the witch hazel is quietly gracing the garden with its tassels of flowers and characteristic fragrance. Bulbs like daffodils and hyacinths are fearlessly pushing through the still crusty earth and slender spears of crocus appear as though they were secretly planted in the cover of night. The climbing hydrangea is studded with fattening buds. I hear birdsong more clearly; it’s only a matter of time before feathered couples will begin house hunting. Everywhere, one can observe nature coming alive.

Which brings me to hellebores. In my opinion, no garden should be without them. They live to serve the gardener. Starting from that time of year when you know winter is still in session but you cannot help look for some signal that spring is on its way, one need only check carefully at the base of the hellebores. Nestled close to the ground, safely tucked under the canopy of large leaves of the previous year, the shy buds have silently emerged. Long before anything else is stirring, the hellebore gives a sweet heads up for spring. This singular sight is reassuring and exactly what an impatient gardener needs.

Soon after, it’s time to cut back the old leaves and unleash the new growth. Stands of upright stems extravagantly displaying cup-shaped flowers nodding in the garden are sure sights of spring. Single, semi-double or double, the hellebore flowers appear as though painted in watercolor. Translucent and soft, the hues range from dark, almost black to deep pink to rose to cream to yellow. Some new varieties sport petals gently edged in a complementary color recalling finely hand-painted porcelain cups of another era.

There are today a variety and color that would suit every taste or situation. The flowers last a very long time – often through summer. The colors may fade or deepen and turn less showy as the season progresses but I still love their look. Hellebores self seed very easily and some gardeners complain about it but in my experience, if you mulch diligently, then it is not a problem at all. The mulch suppresses the seeds from germinating. I typically get only a few seedlings that I often pot up to give away or plant elsewhere in the garden.

Hellebores prefer deep soil rich in hummus, moist but not soggy. They do not require regular feeding. I find that an annual application of compost topped with the mulch of wood chips is sufficient. The plants do best in cool, semi-shaded locations. At a full height of about 18 to 24 inches and a spread of the same, they are ideal in border fronts. The large leaves will shade out more diminutive neighbors so plant accordingly. In the fall, I let the leaves remain to protect the following season’s young buds and remove them only around late March. Hellebores are slow growing and do not get too big so it is best to not divide them. To grow your collection, get new plants or start from seed.

In pots – Because of their extensive root system, they require large pots to allow for growth. A nurseryman friend recently presented me with a couple of hellebores in bloom potted up splendidly in a French zinc pot. While I adore how beautiful it looks on my dining table, I think the plants are displaying a restlessness as though they want to be planted in the ground. As soon as the thaw happens, I will do exactly that.

Hardy, low-maintenance, easy to grow and oh so dependable, hellebores are a mainstay in my garden. Bonus – deer generally stay away from them.

Hanging out with hellebores is indeed a very good thing.

Note: I’m in the upcoming New Horizons art show in Cos Cob, Greenwich, CT. Do stop by to take a look! April 2 – 28. Click here for details.

Mark your calendar – my garden Open Day is May 18, 2019.

Here are images of some of the hellebores I hang out with:

(c) 2019 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Prêt Pour Le Printemps?

Ready for spring? Of course you are! The season officially starts with the happening of the equinox on March 20. Open windows, put away blankets, swap out clothes, freshen up house … heck, redecorate. Bring in flowers, plant up the garden, prepare for celebrations and milestones. Easter, Passover, Mother’s and Father’s Days, Memorial Day, graduations, weddings, showers, birthdays – the list goes on. So much to look forward to. So much to do. Despite the eagerness and anticipation, it can feel somewhat overwhelming. A little inspiration, a splash of motivation is needed.

Enter the annual Lyndhurst Flower Show and Antique Show. Lyndhurst is a beloved treasure in my neck of the woods. I adore the house and, the grounds are absolutely sublime. And the river view! A total stunner. Well worth visiting at anytime but, there are seasonal events that quite simply put it at a much higher level. Aforementioned flower show is one of them. The beautifully proportioned and furnished rooms are spectacularly decorated by local florists. Each florist brings their unique artistry to appoint the spaces as they see fit. The visitor is promised an experience that will delight because after all we’re talking flowers here.

However, one gets more than that visual pleasure. Knowingly or unknowingly, we get to learn about colors, best combinations and complementary hues. This lesson can be extrapolated to the garden for planning new flower borders and beds. Sometimes a flower one never paid much attention to can be viewed in a new light and join the garden. Ideas abound in the flower show.

Indoors, it gives suggestions on how to translate the colors in our own homes and furnishings. I pick up novel ways to use flowers in the house. Because the florists are local, if you’re looking to hire one for an upcoming wedding or other event, this is an opportunity to review the style of several all at once in real time. Saves so much ‘interview’ time too! I heartily approve the decision to give area florists a chance to strut their stuff.

Armed with ideas and notes, move on from the flower show to the Antiques Show in the Carriage House – where one can get choice articles for both home and garden. You can pick up that elusive garden ornament, rare urn or add to your collection of period silver. Most times, all it takes is a single object to transform a space. Some of the best loved pieces in my garden are those I purchased at antique shows like this one. If your budget does not permit any purchase, you can still pick up more decorating ideas at this show. When the time is right, you will know exactly what you want and what will work best.

If these two shows are not enough, there is a plant sale! I feel giddy with anticipation when I’m at a plant sale. I invariably find plants I need but I secretly look forward to some impulse buys. A real guilty pleasure. And pretty harmless if one doesn’t get carried away.

By now, a visitor is more than likely feeling a bit peckish. A toothsome piece of cake, a flaky scone or a light sandwich accompanied by a strong cup of tea would hit the spot you think. Fear not, that situation has already been covered. High tea is served! Elegant, restorative and delicious. Exactly what you need right now. However did they know?!

Have I convinced you to catch spring fever by going to Lyndhurst April 6-7, 2019? Come on down! Shake off the winter apathy, envision your home and garden as you’d like them to be, grab your list, camera and note pad, pick up a friend or two to go with and, head to it. You’ll have yourselves a lovely time. Maybe we’ll even run into each other. And at that time you can thank me. So there.

Note: I’m sharing a few images of my garden as it looks right now. Spring is a stirring!

First Snowdrops!


In the greenhouse –
Orange blossom

(c) 2019 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Keep It Simple

I can feel the quickening. We turned the clock forward last Sunday. The temperature got close to 50 degrees yesterday. While its back to the 40s today, Friday looks promising – it could get as high as 60 degrees! Yes, I can sense winter’s grip loosening.

With that comes an almost overwhelming awareness that much needs doing in the garden. Especially if there is an upcoming occasion for which it must look tip-top. My garden Open Day is looming large. May 18 might still seem a bit far off but given the myriad tasks involved, the uncertainty of the weather and most significantly, my other commitments both personal and professional, that available time is shrinking. Between project deadlines and celebratory occasions, I must squeeze in the garden work. I’m feeling excited and apprehensive all at the same time. It’s a good problem to have.

To mitigate unnecessary stress and frustration, my focus is to simplify. I have nothing to prove. I don’t have to pretend to be super-anybody. I decided to skip starting plants from seed – my schedule just doesn’t have the time to tend to them this year. Instead, I’m getting young plugs of native plants to add to the meadow and vegetable plot. Even for that I was beginning to get anxious about getting them all planted before open Day till I thought more calmly and realized that the plants for summer and fall can most assuredly wait till after that day.

The bones or hardscaping of the garden are already in place. So, there is a sense of order and flow to the design. Some features are focal points and others are backdrops to the plantings which are the true stars. To shine that light on the plants, I’m sticking to a less is more attitude. Less variety, more numbers of the plants. Taking my cue from those stunning swathes of snowdrops or fields of poppies one sees in Europe, I’m going to plant in larger groups and have these groups complement each other. This should highlight forms, colors and texture to the meadow giving it a cohesive and distinct character. I hope.

Spatial identity for the garden is important and by keeping it simple and timeless, the different areas remain unique yet work together as a whole.

Keeping it simple, does not mean bland or generic. This is where details matter. Sculptures, pots and other features like fountains, troughs and seating bring style and personality. These can change or evolve as one desires. There is a certain feature I’m working on for this year – I’m hoping it will all come together in time for May 18. If not, it will be by next year. I’m not going to stress myself out. However, my fingers are crossed.

In the early years, I prided myself on doing as much if not all the work by myself. I had fewer responsibilities and obligations. And a whole lot more youthful energy. These days, I’m happy to bring in some help. What the English refer to as a jobbing gardener – someone who comes in when extra chores or heavy work needs doing during the season. It has made my life so much more manageable. Now, if I’m in the throes of meetings and appointments, I can still get those time sensitive garden jobs addressed. Such a relief. No sense in trying to do too much in too little time. I just wish I’d understood that much earlier instead of all the pressure I used to put on myself to act as though I was superwoman.

As Isaac Newton put it – Nature is pleased with simplicity. And nature is no dummy. And now, neither am I.

Note:  I’m currently busy with my second collection of the Printed Garden products. I’m sharing with you some of the pillow samples. The square pillows are 18×18 inches and the rectangular ones are 14×20. I would love to hear your thoughts ( favorites?) about them. So please drop a line or two in the comments column! Thank you!

(c) 2019 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Snowdrops Keep Swirling In My Head

I love snowdrops. How could one not? Shy and sweet, they appear exactly when the heart is weary and needs a sign of hope that spring is imminent. Defying all odds, these diminutive beauties push through the earth quietly and seemingly overnight, they delight our eyes with their slender green blades and tiny, white bells. With the garden still in winter’s grip, these small bulbs remind me to be positive and brave – despite the challenges, go forth and conquer the day. Good things do come in small packages.

In the course of passing the winter perusing plant catalogs and garden periodicals, I’ve been coveting a myriad varieties of Galanthus. It’s astonishing how many there – double/multiple petaled, unique markings of green on the white petals, some lightly fragrant. Even as I wonder how one is supposed to lie prostrate on the still cold ground to observe these special traits, I covet them all for my garden. Never mind that nobody will notice such details, just knowing they are there seems to warrant their purchase. Perhaps this fall I will be planting a sizable quantity and variety of snowdrops. Fingers crossed – if anything, I’ve learned from these pretties that hope springs eternal.

In extended ( okay, obsessive ) readings on snowdrops, I learned a heartwarming bit of snowdrop history. During the Crimean War, which is clearly the antithesis to Brits’ Agincourt, the starving and freezing British soldiers were deeply demoralized and hopeless. Till the earth, winter-worn and thus far bare of growth but covered in piles of shot and other warfare debris came alive as early bulbs forced their way through. Masses of snowdrops, crocuses and hyacinths turned the soldiers’ morale around. They were symbols of hope and optimism. Some of them planted snowdrops around their tents and huts. Others, brought or sent home specimens of snowdrops which were planted and duly identified.

It was only later that people fully appreciated just how significant the ‘flower of consolation’ and ‘star of hope’ were to the soldiers. This led to greater quantities of bulbs being imported.

Sharing their discovery with family and friends, the soldiers directly influenced a bulb mania of sorts. The best way to preserve precious or rare plants after all, is to disperse them widely. Growers and collectors and of course the rest of us gardeners owe much to them. The dedication of those early growers is why so many early varieties of snowdrops have survived. So a big thank you to them as well.

I love this story. Not only does it once again illustrate the healing, uplifting power of flowers but it shows us a soft, very human side of tough warriors. Something to bear in mind ( and heart ) at all times.

Let the snowdrop reign.

Note: Get out of the cold and stop by the Mooney Center Gallery. Enjoy the art!

Looking forward to – 

Snowdrops



(c) 2019 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Glacial Gifts, Tundra Tidings

We are heading into a deep, deep freeze today. It’s not pretty. Bitterly cold, icy and positively painful to endure. Obviously a natural reason to stay cozy and warm indoors. Get that fire roaring, have hot chocolate or something stronger on hand and settle in to read, dream and plan for warmer days. Spring seems far away right now but it’ll be here and I’d better be ready.

I really do appreciate the days when we’re forced to spend time within – literally and metaphorically. Time to reflect and review is the benevolence of this season. I’m no longer required to come up with excuses for lolling on the couch at odd times of the day. In fact, I’ve become something of an expert on getting cozy.

Gather those soft blankets, fuzzy socks, books, periodicals, notebook/ipad, phone, eye glasses, snack and drink. Turn on the music, light the fire and settle down on your favorite coach. Start reading, researching, make notes, plans and lists … on any subject you want. In my case, it’s the garden.

Typically, I have a hearty stew or one pot meal going in the slow cooker and I’m surrounded by forced bulbs and other flowers to set the stage for serious couch time.

I’ve been catching up on all the garden magazines and catalogs that piled up during the busy seasons. My notes are becoming extensive and I’m now desiring a space the size of a small country to implement all my ideas. I’m also following garden doings in Australia and the UK. This has on occasion got me all confused.

Since summer is in session down under, there is much talk about dahlias and roses. As a result, my mind skips over spring and starts imagining it is in August loitering amongst dahlias ( I actually don’t have any in my garden) and feeling the heat of the super hot days they’re experiencing in Australia. I get all anxious till I realize it’s very much winter here. Side note: We usually predict our flu season by observing how it was in Australia. Let’s hope their summer does not portend our own.

Meanwhile, in the UK, their hellebores, aconites and snowdrops are going gangbusters. That’s at least a couple of months ahead of us and yet, I’ve caught myself rushing out, risking frostbite and searching for signs of growth. Yes, I’m messed up.

The list of plants I’m hoping to include in the meadow is more or less finalized and I will order the plants later today. I’m now dreaming of a completely new garden feature to introduce this spring. No more will be said at present as I’m researching the feasibility of it. But, I’m having a good time plotting.

Last summer, I’d picked up Alexander Dumas’ “Black Tulip” at the Amsterdam Botanical Gardens shop. I had not been aware he’d written a book on anything botanical and this one seemed an appropriate purchase as it is set in the Netherlands. I’m reading it now. It’s not in any way hoticulturally informative and I’d forgotten that Dumas’ writing style is sort of archaic but the obsession two characters have about ‘creating’ a true black tulip is completely relatable. It is only at this period of forced lounging that such a piece of fiction does not feel like a waste of time.

There are a couple of books currently available in the UK that have me salivating. I fully intend to procure them soon. I shall report on them in due course.

And now, back to the serious work of contemplating on the couch.

Note: The ‘Personal Best’ art show at the Mooney Center Gallery in New Rochelle, NY is underway! Check it out please. I’d love feedback.

Since nothing is in bloom outside, I’m sharing some of my watercolors –

(c) 2019 Shobha Vanchiswar

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Peace On Earth And All That Jazz

It’s a time of celebration this week – joy, peace, love and goodwill. Are you feeling it? I’m not. There is just too much external noise distracting me. To be honest, I’m aware of being sorta unsettled and anxious. As though I’m waiting for calamity instead of calm and quiet. This is absolutely no way to be. So I’ve decided I wont.

And I’m going about it the only way I know how. By connecting to the earth. A simple stroll in a garden or the woods channels my attention to the present. I set off with a head cluttered with the news and state of the world but as I walk, a subtle shift occurs. At the beginning, I walk briskly to get my blood flowing. As I warm up, I draw deep breaths of the fresh, cold air and I become aware that my shoulders have begun to relax. As though a weight has been lifted.

My eyes take in the surroundings, The ribbons of sunlight cascading through the fretwork of bare branches above cast a radiant glow on the forest floor. I observe the squirrels making madcap dashes in seemingly random manner – it’s no wonder they forget where they’ve stashed their nutty treasures. The birds appear more organized and chatty and I get the feeling they communicate with each other to make whatever it is they’re doing more enjoyable. I can relate to that communal spirit.

Against the present starkness of the deciduous trees, the pines and firs take on the role of chief color givers. Their shades of green range from the blue-green to the yellow-green. The blue spruces to the variegated cedars. I understand their importance in the landscape much better now. They prevent the winter from looking bleak and foreboding. And after a snowfall, they are the ones to provide us with that quintessential image of the season. Picturesque and comforting.

I become so lost in my surroundings that it comes as a surprise that I’m almost back home. I feel like a new person. Uplifted and energized, I’ve rediscovered my true north, I’m ready to embrace the demands of the moment – that of taking pleasure in the company of family and friends. Renewing and reaffirming our bonds of love and friendship. In the end, this is all one has and all one wants. The rest is just noise. Tune it out.

(c) 2018 Shobha Vanchiswar

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