February is here – the quiet prelude to Spring. This is the month where I get tough with myself and methodically face indoor tasks which will hurt the growing season’s upcoming display if I don’t.

Seed Orders – Because even your old high school coach is buying seeds these days, and there are only so many seeds out there. Timing is everything.

Plant Orders – Because, ditto. And before you know it, May will be here and "out of stock" will greet you when you finally get around to getting hold of that gorgeous Alocasia macrorrhiza ‘Lutea'.

Plants in Storage – They may be too dry, too wet, or growing out of their bags and alerting you to too-warm temperatures in your holding areas. You may even have a pest problem if it’s been too warm.

Houseplant Pests – February really is the month for trials and tribulations. We’re still several months from getting your Long-Term Commitments back outside (if you give them a #houseplantvacation), and much can happen in that time – you simply have to pay attention this month. Many gorgeous specimens have lost their proverbial bloom after realizing that no, indoor conditions were not just a temporary measure, and they’re in it for the long haul. Give them a bit of love.

It's always a good idea to think ahead, but this year, inflation and supply chain issues are shifting that concept into mantra status. At least around here. If you’re feeling overwhelmed (I am), write down the things you really don’t want to live without this growing season. It may be less than you think.

Perhaps you can live without them, use the seeds you have, and sharpen your propagating skills this year. If so, it’s wise to make a decision to that end instead of passively and guiltily letting the decision-making point go by. It’s a spirit-refreshing superpower.

As for those houseplants and tender storage plants? Absolutely you can let those once lovely houseplants walk one-by-one down the long green mile. You can refuse to check on the plants in cold storage to see if they need some moisture (they probably do).

Yes, you can let them all perish, or at least see what survives if you do nothing, but I’d counsel against it if possible. You’ve already spent a great deal of time, money, and most of all, energy, getting them where they are. See them through till the spring and then let your experience of "Why did I do that to myself?!?!?" inform your decision-making process next autumn instead.

As for the winter garden, there are many who do not garden in February, or do not choose to aim for a four-season garden. And while I understand this attitude in climates where gardens are covered in two feet of snow for the majority of winter, for me, February is a too-short month that allows me to take care of things that are so much more difficult to do when the weather warms up and everything needs my attention.

Yesterday was a good case in point. Bright. Fine. Probably 38-42F. Wrapped up warm with a good pair of gloves and a warm hat, I added to the habitat nest near the chicken coop with a pile of fallen branches and sticks, pruned the ‘Gardenia’ rambling rose that wants to run over the top of the wired run, and removed the dead vines of Dioscorea bulbifera, that with fallen twigs and rambler laterals, creates an efficient catch all for a million leaves, seed pods and branches from the massive sycamore above.

What a job. There was a fair amount of swearing. I questioned, as I always do, the need for rambling roses in a garden.

And yet, how much more difficult had I left this to spring, with emerging bulbs to tread on, and budding, ancient rose canes to feel pity for, and wet, mushy soil to hold up my rake instead of allowing me to sweep up the sticks I tossed on the ground whilst atop a wobbly ladder? Plus, keenly aware of 526 other time-sensitive tasks to do as the planting season raged around me….

This also allowed me to assess the gnarled skeleton of my chaste tree and decide if that really was the shape I wanted, or if it would add more as a much smaller shrub. The answer was yes, the chainsaw came out, the deed was done – more fodder for the nest. I cleared the remains of Persicaria virginiana from around a budding but small Corylopsis (which would have ruined the spring show), pulled the remains of a rotting cold frame out from rampant ajuga, and took a long hard look at the Allegheny viburnums, now stripped of leaves, and decided that they too, would be drastically cut back in a few weeks’ time.

And in doing so, I got my blood pumping and my back moving – which is crucial in the winter when it would otherwise be atrophying at my desk. But above all, I remembered how beautiful the winter landscape is, even when the garden is technically not. I couldn’t be without February in my gardening year – how curious to find myself sad it is a short month. My twenty-something self would be shocked.