December: Waiting

2. December 2016
Planted: A Year of Gardening
The series starts here

December passes in frustrating boredom for northern tier gardeners. Even in the warmest years the sun will sink, the air will chill, and the ground will freeze solid. You have to come in from the cold. Not even climate change can fight planetary motion.

As the winter wears on, one’s gardening chops get itchy, and you start to think about things like winter sowing, a seductive waste of time that involves making tiny greenhouses out of old milk cartons or pop bottles. Supposedly a season-extender, I’ve found that seeds planted this way just sprout when they would have sprouted in the ground. I think northern Illinois winter and spring are just too variable for winter sowing.

Almost ten years ago, I learned of a tradition called “Solstice Sowing.” It’s a midwinter planting to honor different aspects of your life—seeds for Remembrance, Faith, Life, and a tree seed for longevity. In past years, for remembrance I’ve planted Columbine (Aquilegia) and Angelonia. Columbine, because of its whimsical, star-shaped bloom, is sometimes associated with innocence and jest, but also with faith and remembrance. Also known as “Mary’s Shoes” they supposedly sprung from the fallen shoes of the Virgin upon her visit to Elizabeth.

I’ve planted Angelonia, a flower related to lavender. It really has nothing to do with remembrance, but I like the flower, and I had the seeds.

For faith I’ve planted mustard, of course, and other greens. They have the advantage of being useful, as well, and are seedlings that can be put out as soon as the ground is friable.

I planted anemone one year on the death of my aunt-by-marriage. Anemones are the flowers that some say spring from the blood of the dead god, and others from the tears of the goddess who mourns him.

Seeds for Life have been Chinese Lanterns as well as sunflowers. The Chinese Lanterns never come up, not a very good omen. But sunflowers are a wonderful symbol of the life-giving sun that they are named for.

Some years I do plant tree seeds—I tried paw-paws one year, and a cutting from my Magnolia (which sadly didn’t make it—I wish I had that now). This first year in the new house instead of planting a tree, I put up a Christmas tree for the first time in years—the breezeway fairly screams for one, so I decided to honor the call. It stayed up only for the 12 Days, but I left lighted garlands on the windows all the way to the Equinox.