To All Houseplants — Your Winter Quarters Await!
Well my little leafy friends, it seems Old Man Winter has pulled into town early this year.
I know, I know, normally we don’t haul you inside until after Thanksgiving. But that bitter chill in the air tells me it’s time to batten down the hatches.
I gave you a few extra weeks to soak up the autumn sun, but those nights are getting frosty and this morning I saw a woolly worm that looked more woolly than worm.
So let’s get you tucked in for a long winter’s nap, shall we?
I’ve cleared some space on the shelves near the window where you can soak up the weak sunlight through the foggy glass. I’ve gathered some decorative pots to keep your roots cozy. No more bathing in the warm rains or dancing in the breeze.
From now until spring, we’ll be roommates sharing stale indoor air.
I know change is hard, my little plants, but you’ll adapt.
Humans do too, though we grumble about it more. That first cold snap is a shock to the system.
Where did my flip flops go? Why is everything suddenly pumpkin spice? How many more months until summer?
But we adjust our rhythms, trading sundresses for sweaters, patios for fireplaces.
The seasons shape us, like a patient gardener pruning her plants.
And even in the depths of winter, there is beauty to uncover.
The dazzling light through icicle prisms. The quiet wonder of a new snowfall blanketing the garden. The warmth of a bowl of soup or cup of cocoa after shoveling snow off the patio. A good book while curled up near the window, where you can still feel the chill seeping in.
We’ll find our own cozy corners, my leafy friends. For you, it’s the sill where you can gaze out on the frosted garden and dream of spring.
So don’t despair, my green friends.
Your foliage may fade but you’ll never stop growing.
And when spring arrives in her floral dress, we’ll both breathe easier under blue skies. Until then, we have each other.
Now let’s get inside before your leaves start to freeze. This winter may bite, but we’ll take it one season at a time.
