Today the sun is shining on the beauty of my garden after the blizzard of February 10th, 2010.

View from my deck after the beautiful snow storm

I haven’t been out yet since I’m leaving all the shoveling to my son Michael and hubby Dave. But I ventured to take the screens out of some upstairs windows and shot some photos and video of the heavily snow laden branches.

It seems from my perspective so far that the only major damage is the loss, yet again, of the top of the American Holly, (Ilex opaca). I don’t remember what year it was but it happened once before over a 15 years ago. The central apex broke at the time from another snowstorm but grew back with a double lead. I don’t knew yet whether I’ve lost just one or both.

I made a short, one-minute video of the garden as it looks this morning before the wind picks up and blows all the heavy snow from the branches. It will be fun to watch the garden perk up during the day as the snow begins to rearrange itself.

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Four O’Clocks were my first introduction to growing plants from seed. Uncle Teddy took me by the hand at his home in Schenectady and introduced me, the kid from Brooklyn, to gardening. I can still smell the soil as we dropped the seeds of Four O’Clocks into the ground he taught me to prepare. Four O’Clocks weren’t the only things growing in his garden, so was I.

The Kansas Peonies I grown in my garden was a Mother’s Day present from my son Chris. I have so many gifts he’s given to me over our many years together but I still cherish the bright pink of these robust plants each year as they bloom for me right in season. They return each Mother’s Day, expanding and adding to their beauty, as does he.

One year for my September birthday, my son, Michael came swooping in proudly bestowing upon me a stripling of a Japanese Maple. Still dangling was the $9.99 tag placed on it from Home Depot. Now this mature specimen holds court as a central focal point in my front garden.

A bouquet of Zinnias comes into my hands each year when my husband Dave buys them from the gardener with a stand up the street from us. The grin on his boyish face as he hands them to me with love is matched only by the riotous colors of the single and double flowers grouped tightly in his hands.

On Mother’s Day this year my grandson C.J. bounced up to greet me with a pot full of poppies. He shares my garden with me and helps to bring my attention to all the wonderful colors and shapes he finds there for fear I might miss them. These poppies are pink he told me and reminded me that we need to photograph everything so we’ll remember how they looked.

I’ll remember.