Next general meeting
February 10th, 2026. 9:30am-11:30am
LFP Third Place Commons (near the stage).

**Why I Like February in the garden** February is the quiet heart of the gardening year, and that’s exactly why I love it. The garden in February doesn’t shout for attention. It whispers. The beds are mostly bare, the trees stand honest without their leaves, and everything feels stripped down to its essentials. There’s a calm clarity to it that you don’t get in the frantic abundance of spring or the lush chaos of summer. In February, the garden lets you breathe. I love how the light changes this time of year. The days are still short, but you can feel them stretching, just a little, almost shyly. Low winter sun catches frost on the soil and turns ordinary ground into something glittering and temporary. Even on grey days, the garden feels reflective, as if it’s thinking before it speaks. There’s also a quiet promise everywhere you look. Buds swell on bare branches, snowdrops push through cold soil, and hellebores bloom like they have secrets to keep. These plants don’t need applause. They bloom because it’s time, and that feels reassuring in a world that’s often too loud and rushed. February is when I feel closest to the structure of the garden. Without foliage to hide it, you really see the bones: the shape of paths, the curve of beds, the way one tree leans slightly toward the light. It’s the perfect moment to notice what works, what doesn’t, and what could be. Planning feels more thoughtful now, less like wishful thinking and more like a conversation with the space. I also love the work of February. It’s slower and more deliberate. Pruning, tidying, turning soil when the weather allows—these jobs feel intimate, almost meditative. There’s no pressure to hurry. The garden isn’t demanding results yet; it’s inviting preparation. Most of all, February reminds me that rest is part of growth. The garden isn’t empty—it’s gathering itself. Standing there in the cold, hands in pockets, I feel like I’m doing the same. Loving the garden in February is loving it for what it is, not just for what it will become.