GARDENING SEASON BEGINS IN EASTERN CANADA

OK, I know it’s a bit of a stretch. Delusion can be a gardener’s best friend, especially here in the land of ice and snow. This year we are having a long, cold “old fashioned” winter and my gardening morale needs a bit of boosting.

Happily, snow shoes were invented for this very purpose. About twice a week (weather permitting) I am able to visit a beautiful corner of a local old growth forest. Fortunately, there are no roads or trails into this cherished spot, totally undisturbed by human activity.

This is a textbook Type 60 old growth beech, hemlock and red maple forest. Although not apparent from the photo, the understorey landscape is one of 10,000 years worth of mounds and craters (since the last ice age when most of Canada was under up to 2 miles of ice thickness). This is where generations of beeches and red maples have been uprooted and have passed on their essential life force to the forest’s rich soil. Having rambled around this delightful parcel of nature’s show case for two years now, I know what to expect when spring arrives. The sun’s warmth and an abundance of spring run-off will generate a veritable explosion of spectacular surprises. The first to poke through will be the ostrich ferns and ramps (both local food delicacies here – fiddle heads and ramps), followed by the dog violets, may flowers, ladies slippers, purple and white trilliums and many more. Either side of the 4th of May the forest canopy comes alive with a profusion of tender, glistening young leaves. There are no farms or towns near here and as this is the highest point in the region the water is pure and crystal clean and the soil exudes a wonderful musty sweetness. On the forest floor the club mosses wander in search of sun, the fruiting bodies of mushrooms will suddenly burst on to the scene, and American ginsing will send up a delicate shoot from ginger-like roots, often 20 years old. Wild life from the white-tailed deer to brown bears and coyotes range here on a daily basis.

But now everything in this temple of nature is asleep; waiting for the longer days and the life-giving force of the sun. Nature, I believe, is essentially collaborative; even in competition there is a remarkable harmony everywhere. There are no winners or loosers in a forest; just a cornucopia of life. We homo sapiens can still learn much here.