2 THE GARDEN, YOU, AND I 



our shield of defence windward, for the wind is not 

 one but a composite of many moods, and to lure one on, 

 and skilfully but not insultingly bar out another, is our 

 portion. To shut out the wind of summer, the bearer 

 of vitality, the uplifter of stifling vapours, the disperser 

 of moulds, would indeed be an error; therefore, the great 

 art of the planters of a garden is to learn the ways of 

 the wind and to make friends with it. If the soil is 

 sodden and sour, it may be drained and sweetened; 

 if it is poor, it may be nourished; but when all this is 

 done, if the garden lies where the winds of winter and 

 spring in passing swiftly to and fro whet their steel- 

 edged tempers upon it, what avails? 



What does it matter if violet or pansy frames are set 

 in a sunny nook, if it be one of the wind's winter play- 

 grounds, where he drifts the snow deep for his pastime, 

 so that after each storm of snow or sleet a serious bit of 

 engineering must be undergone before the sashes can 

 be lifted and the plants saved from dampness; or if 

 the daffodils and tulips lie well bedded all the winter 

 through, if, when the sun has called them forth, the 

 winds of March blight their sap-tender foliage? Yet 

 the lands that send the north winds also send us the 

 means to deter them the cold-loving evergreens, low 

 growing, high growing, medium, woven dense in warp 



