Arriving at the farm the day after a storm, deep snow is drifting up the sides of the greenhouses, even covering areas of the roof. Passing through the first greenhouse, dried roses hang upside down, waiting to be used as part of the decorative wreathes, a new product being offered for sale.
An arctic blast hits us as we leave one greenhouse and negotiate the narrow path that has been shoveled through the deep snow. It looks more like we are about to enter an ice palace than a greenhouse. As my sunglasses are steaming up and I can barely see, and the winter coat I am wearing suddenly feels a bit too warm, I sniff the air and know that I have wandered into a sub tropical garden instead. Once the fog clears I see aisles of rose bushes that seem to go on forever. Though I've been expecting to see splashes of color across the spectrum of yellows, pinks, reds and oranges; the color before my eyes is a sea of green, with only small paint strokes of color dotting the vast expanse.
Paraphrased from the article, watch for the complete article about 'Roses For Autism', at Patch.com, the Clinton edition.
Photos and article by C.M. Glover
Watch here for Renée's comprehensive article on Pinchbeck Farm, along with my collection of photos from that day.
No comments:
Post a Comment