In January, the gardener examines the ice flowers blooming on his windows, in a drawing by Josef Čapek (1887-1945), for The Gardener’s Year, by Karel Čapek (born 9 January, 1890; died 25 December, 1938)
In the following excerpt from The Gardener’s Year, the gardener attempts to heed the advice of the gardening manuals as to what ought to be done in January:
‘So, “not even January is a time of inactivity for the gardener,” as the gardening manuals — certainly only as a consolation — insist. In particular, it is apparently possible to work the soil, insofar as the frost apparently makes it crumble. Bang on New Year’s Day, therefore, the gardener rushes out into his garden to work the soil. He sets to work on it with a spade. After lengthy exertions, he manages to break his spade against the soil, which is as hard as corundum. He tries with a hoe; if he persists, he breaks its handle in two. He even grabs a pick and manages at least to dig up a Tulip bulb which he had planted in the autumn. The only expedient is to work the soil with a chisel and hammer, except that this is a slow process which soon becomes tiring. Perhaps the soil could be loosened with dynamite, but this is not something which the gardener usually has. Fine, let us leave it to the thaw.
And lo, the thaw arrives and the gardener rushes into the garden to work the soil. After a while, he brings everything that has thawed on the surface into the house, stuck to his boots. Nevertheless, he wears a blissful expression and insists that the ground is opening up. Meanwhile, there is nothing left to do but to “do various preparatory jobs for the approaching season.” “If you have a dry spot in the cellar, prepare some potting soil, thoroughly mixing leafmould, compost, rotten cow dung and a little sand.” Excellent! Except that there are coke and coal in the cellar. These women spread everywhere with their daft, domestic necessities. Well then, there ought to be enough space in the bedroom for a nice little heap of humus —
“Use the wintertime to repair your pergola, arbour or summerhouse.” Well and good, except that I do not happen to have a pergola, arbour or summerhouse. “Even in January it is possible to lay turf.” If only I knew where. Perhaps in the hallways or in the attic. “Above all, keep watch on the temperature in the greenhouse.” Well, I would gladly keep watch, but I have not got a greenhouse. These gardening manual do not tell you much.’
(1929; translated from the Czech by Geoffrey Newsome)
