This is the time of year when certain choices have to be made for us residents of the Northern Hemisphere. Does one focus on powering through these briefest of daylight-sparse, energy-sapping days (the shortest of the entire year, to be precise) or fully embrace the largesse that might be offered by the longest nights of the year?

I like finding the brightest side of any situation and, in this case, for me, the bright side is decidedly darker. Early this morning, we rode the planet to its maximum tilt away from the sun and I’m going with the flow.

A fantastical floral arrangement at Chanticleer, photographed in June, 2023.

Saluting the winter solstice or at least celebrating during the winter solstice is not new, of course. There’s the Dongzhi Festival in China (December 21 – 23), acknowledging the yin and yang/balance and harmony of the cosmos, which evidently became a tradition during the Zhou dynasty (1045 BCE – 256 CE). And people in parts of northern Europe (where my ancestors hail from) were throwing a festival called Yule, December 21st to January 1st, probably around the same time. The jury is still out as to what exactly Yule was all about but its timing unequivocally points to matters of light and dark, feast and famine, the past and the future.

The power of a great floral arrangement

I won’t be dancing around a bonfire, indulging in psychonautics or any other pagan-adjacent activities (as would befit my particular heritage). But I am going to acknowledge this special time of year by paying extra special attention to my indoor floral arrangements. Tame? Yes. But I’m not one to underestimate the power of a good floral arrangement.

As inspiration I’m using this grouping (seen above) discovered at Chanticleer when I was there in June of 2023. I had ducked into a covered porch attached to the main house near the entrance of the garden and there it was – the unlikeliest mix of plants coalescing into pure delight.

There was an elegant Staghorn fern (most likely Platycerium superbum because of its upright habit), undulating from a large terracotta urn. A pot of Heuchera added quiet colours of fresh green and burgundy with its distinctive leaves. Some kind of succulent brought more texture while echoing the velvety pale green of the staghorn.

Two leggy plants shared a pot, both throwing tiny white blooms into the air. One was probably Chamomile (Matricaria chamomilla). The other, probably Laceflower (Ammi majus), also known as White Dill and False Queen Anne’s Lace. SIDENOTE: Unlike real Queen Anne’s Lace, Laceflower makes an excellent cut flower, with a vase life of up to 10 days. But be careful when displaying this plant inside the home. Ammi majus is toxic to dogs and cats.

And, then, to top it all off: A shocking pink orchid. Be still my heart!

Arranging the fantastical

Honestly, I can’t put my finger on the one thing that makes this crazy combo of plants work. I love the variety of textures and shapes. I love the different kinds of greens ranging from deep (the orchid’s leaves) to pale (the succulent). And that pop of searing fuchsia. Brilliant!

But I think the reason why I gravitated to this arrangement was that it’s not about one thing. It doesn’t scream summer (although there are plants involved that you can only grow or acquire in summer) or winter or any season for that matter. And it doesn’t rely on any kind of classic style of flower arranging. There are no thrillers or spillers or focal points. It’s a hodge-podge, really.

Gathering together the strange and wonderful and creating a display that doesn’t quite make sense but still tickles your sensibilities? What better way to kickstart the journey towards marvellously long days.