Living at the base of the predictably unpredictable Siskiyou Pass is usually fairly unremarkable in the weather department. The snow and ice are something to view on the many TripCheck cameras available for travelers and truck drivers to look at before they start up the grade. Once in a while, though, we in the valley are reminded that winter reigns. I look to my sunny garden art to find it, ironically, covered with a giant cap of white.
My winter garden is unkempt and bedraggled. Any seedheads left in the decidedly unmanicured herb bed are magnets for the juncos, goldfinches, and chickadees. I have plenty of nyjer and black sunflower seeds in feeders, and suet cakes hang from tree branches. But the seedheads from sunflowers, oregano, lemon balm and spearmint are visited through the entire day. For the gardener this is a mixed blessing. Seeds that are shaken loose and not eaten will result in an army of volunteers. But for the birds they are a winter banquet.