Faces of Frost and Promise: Literary Sayings for February
Today's Garden Words were featured on The Daily Gardener podcast:
Words inspired by the garden are the sweetest,
most beautiful words of all.
February 3, 2020
As February tiptoes in, its mood swings—from rainstorms to frozen mornings—carry the delicate promise of transition.
These words from past writers capture the essence of this curious month that balances winter’s grip and the soft whispers of spring.
February brings the rain,
Thaws the frozen lake again.
— Sarah Coleridge, English author and translator
Coleridge celebrates February’s gentle power, reminding gardeners that beneath icy facades, life prepares to burst forth once more.
Why, what’s the matter,
That you have such a February face,
So full of frost, of storm and cloudiness?
— William Shakespeare, from Much Ado About Nothing
Even the Bard observed February’s fickle temperament—one moment bright and promising, the next cloaked in chill and gloom, much like the weather reflections in a gardener’s hopeful heart.
The most serious charge which can be brought against New England is not Puritanism but February.
— Joseph Wood Krutch, American writer and naturalist
A sharp critique with a wink, Krutch reminds us that the length and harshness of February can try the patience as much as stern dogma—something every gardener waiting for a thaw knows well.
February is the border between winter and spring.
— Terri Guillemets, quotation anthologist
A succinct truth: February stands as the gatekeeper, marking the cusp where endings meet beginnings in the garden.
February is a suitable month for dying. Everything around is dead, the trees black and frozen so that the appearance of green shoots two months hence seems preposterous, the ground hard and cold, the snow dirty, the winter hateful, hanging on too long.
— Anna Quindlen, American author and journalist, One True Thing
Quindlen’s raw, poignant words evoke the ache of winter’s persistence—a sentiment gardeners deeply understand as the earth holds tight to its cold, seemingly lifeless grip, only to surprise us with new life when the season turns.
February, with all its contradictions, teaches patience and hope—qualities as essential to gardening as water and sunlight.