Walking through winter, we grow accustomed to spare landscape and learn to accept a subdued palette, seeking beauty in barren branch and empty field, finding peace in dormant-brown meadow and slumbering-gray garden. There is wisdom in stillness and eloquence in quietude, we remind ourselves— things lost to other seasons are found and appreciated anew, walking through winter. Yet there have been chill, bleak days— when we've turned on a less-travelled woodland trail or strolled to a forgotten corner of a garden— when we've happened upon ground bouquets of hellebore, blooming in graceful opposition to landscape and palette, nodding in mute response to an unspoken question.
We pause and meet them with wonder: wonder at sturdy green foliage and delicate blooms that droop to face winter ground— maybe in humility, maybe in coyness— prompting us to genuflect in an act of deference to get a closer look, to take a better photograph. And just as frequently, we wonder: who planted these hellebores, with trowel or bare hands, with what thought and feeling? As they gently placed the root ball in waiting earth, did they plant in joy or in sorrow— with hope, or with determination to overcome hollowing despair? And as they smoothed a protective blanket of soil around each hellebore, did they utter a lost incantation, share an untold story?
Several years ago, we found clusters of hellebores blooming near crumbling ruins in the contours of a vanishing garden. There was something enduring and ancient about them, something paradoxical and poetic, too— the way they stirred in winter's cold light, the way they rose without fuss through snow shadow, proffering exquisite flowers to passersby or to no one at all. And so last autumn, we planted a hellebore in our own garden, hoping that something small and new would flourish in the loamy shelter of the magnificent old beech tree. While helleborus niger is offering no blooms yet, it is showing signs of growth, green foliage rising like promise from frost-painted garden. If not this winter, then maybe next... or the next. Or perhaps this hellebore will bloom for another who wanders through a far-off winter, listening for the whisper of peace. —B.
Time past—
someone planted,
someone share a story
of tangled root and broken earth—
and now
when snow
drapes hellebore
in stilling cold crystal,
it seems the season's loveliest
whisper.
—B.
Hellebore is a perennial, low-growing evergreen found in
shady woodland areas throughout the northern half of the United States. There are approximately twenty different species of
hellebore, including the popular Christmas Rose, Winter Rose,
and Lenten Rose. None of these are actually related to roses but are named
for their similarly gorgeous blooms— large, downward-facing, cup-like flowers
in shades of white, pink, purple, and even black. The plant blossoms in late
winter, bringing much-appreciated color to the still-frozen landscape. Over the centuries, hellebore has come to symbolize a sense of peace and tranquility, possibly because the plant is easy to maintain and long-living once
established. Hellebore may also be associated with inner peace due to its ancient— and potentially deadly— use as a calming agent. Given the plant's high level
of toxicity, it is far safer to avoid touching any part of hellebore, finding
tranquility only by observing it. Although
it does self-sow and spread, hellebore is typically planted with intention— so
the hellebore you see on a late winter walk likely tells a story of someone’s
love of the plant and desire for the peaceful, hopeful message it confers with its bloom. —D.
Human beings almost universally value the concept of peace— a state of composure, comfort, and serenity. While some think of peace as the absence of conflict, most spiritual traditions view
it as an inner disposition that is independent of situation and circumstance. You
do not need to travel to a mountaintop, take a vow of silence, or live a life of
solitude to find peace. Instead, reflect on the hellebore as emblematic of a more
peaceful mindset. Consider the idea of peace and what it means to you. What
would peace feel like in your body? How would a sense of peace impact your
life for the better? Have you ever felt that happiness will bring you peace? If
so, consider the opposite: what if peace comes first? Are you willing to
examine some of your current priorities to find more inner peace? Would you
give up some of the time you spend on social media? Would you allow yourself
the time to be un-busy? Might you resist comparing yourself to others or
projecting a certain image to the world? Would you be willing to reduce the
time or energy you expend in negative, toxic relationships? What about the
quest for more and more material possessions? These are just a few common barriers that people face on the path to a more peaceful life. What barriers
might be in your way? What is it worth to you to free yourself of them? —D.
The Christmas Rose (Die Christrose)
The Christmas Rose raises her white head
To the unfettered world of winter;
She goes alone and disappears
Before the spring can find her.
She announces it
When no one yet believes.
— Johannes Trojan, 1839-1915, journalist, botanist, and poet
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