GARDENS:Bringing wreaths of holly, ivy and other greenery into the home at this time of the year is both a decoration and a reconnection with nature, which brightens the seasonal glow, writes Jane Powers
THE GHOSTS OF Christmas wreaths past, each frailer than the previous year's, hang around this house and garden. The willow-and-pine-cone circle from three years ago clings to the shed door, bouncing to the ground when a strong wind takes it. The spruce ring from the following year still perfumes the back porch where the dogs sleep, and last year's faded offering is suspended from the stairs.
Yes, you're right, some de-cluttering is badly needed around here. But, it's hard to cast off the fruits of one's labours. Although - looking on the practical side - in the case of all-natural wreaths, their life-cycle can go on a bit longer: one can compost the leafy parts and use the twiggy bits to start the fire. Which is exactly what I must do, to make room for this year's festive greenery.
I'm not exactly sure what the origins are of Yuletide wreaths, except that they are a mixum-gatherum of Christian, Roman, Celtic and Germanic symbolism (among others). The circular shape represents eternity, and the various evergreen leaves are signs of the continuity of life, when all else is dead and dormant in the dark days of winter. For Christians the traditional wreath plant, holly, signifies the crown of thorns and blood of Christ. Yet in earlier times it had an entirely different meaning, and was used as a fertility symbol, and as a protective charm to ward off evil spirits and witchcraft. Berrying holly, despite being a female plant, was often seen as masculine, while ivy was depicted as feminine. The berries of ivy, moreover, were, since classical times, considered useful for warding off the effects of alcohol, because it was one of the plants that could overwhelm a grapevine. (But please don't practise any homemade ivy-based hangover cures after reading this.) Yet, no matter the reasons, the bringing inside of greenery at this time is one of the more satisfying things about the season, serving both to decorate the house and to reconnect us with the natural world outside.
This year, the trend in Yuletime wreaths, garlands, and other whatnots is once again towards the natural, according to Carol Bone, one of this country's leading floral artists. Carol, who has decorated Farmleigh and Kilkenny Castle, also says that "making do" is in vogue this season: using things that you've already got, such as little terracotta pots from the garden shed, or going out and foraging for pine cones and other material. (And responsible woodland foraging, as readers of this column already know, means not removing living material from trees or shrubs, including - and especially - holly branches.) There is plenty of fodder in the garden (be it your own, or that of a friend) for decking the halls, and all the other indoor spaces. Conifers such as cedar, cypress, fir, juniper, pine and spruce may be used to produce traditional-looking rings for the front door, but almost any evergreen foliage can be made into wreaths or garlands, or positioned in artful sprigs about the place. Some species, because the leaves grow in a neat and linear manner, are particularly elegant: yew, bay, rosemary, for instance. And ivy, eucalyptus and the wonderful suede-backed Magnolia grandiflora have pleasing, architectural shapes. A surprise find for me this year was variegated pittosporum - although it is regularly used by flower arrangers to bring light to a design. In the frosty-looking wreath pictured here, I used the pale-edged 'Silver Queen' and the splashy 'Irene Paterson' for the body, garnished it with skimmia berries, and stuck in some white-painted birch twigs and ears of wheat.
A word or two on making your own wreath: you need several hours to do it, so allow yourself a long and leisurely evening. Cut the foliage the day before and leave it standing in buckets of water to "condition" it (ie, soak up the maxumum amount of water). Ivy can be conditioned in the bathtub. Use a pre-formed ring for your base - either of florist's foam soaked in water, or of wire - and fasten a ribbon for hanging the wreath before you attach anything else. Add the foliage, working methodically around the ring: outer edge first, inner edge second, and finally, the face. Stand back frequently to see how it's all going. When you are satisfied with your green framework, add berries from the garden, cones, or whatever you fancy, using florist's wire.
Crab apples, if you can find some late hangers-on, make dotey little accents. Red berries are one of the best ways of brightening a bit of greenery: not only are they reminiscent of holly, but red has more punch than any other colour. Plants, besides holly, that supply fruits with the requisite oomph include cotoneaster, pyracantha, skimmia and some roses (if the birds haven't got there first). Snow berries are pure white, while those of ivy range from olive-green to black.
Dried seedheads can be used au naturel, or spritzed with a blingy dash of silver or gold spray paint (or, if you want to be up to date with this year's trend, bronze). Plants that offer up suitable seed heads include agapanthus, artichoke, cardoon, teasel, sea holly (Eryngium), opium poppy, Chinese lantern (Physalis), honesty, ornamental grasses and some lilies and irises. And if you remembered to bring them in from the garden earlier in the year, allium heads, such as those of the huge A. cristophii, make beautifully structured adornments for a tree or large flower arrangement.
Pliable twigs, such as birch, hazel, willow and dogwood, are valuable Yule material. They may be coiled into a circle to form the bones of a wreath - which then needs little more than a few twists of ivy, a scattering of berries or cones, and a ribbon. Twigs - painted or plain - may also be added to a foliage wreath, giving it a whiskery appearance that softens the outline. Or they may simply be shoved into pots of seasonal flowers, such as paperwhite narcissus or cyclamen. Add a mulch of small leaves, such as those of birch (collected the day before and dried indoors overnight), and the whole arrangement looks as if you have just plucked a piece of woodland floor and plonked it on your table. Lovely! The leaf idea, I have to admit, is not my own: I borrowed it from a delightful book that has just landed in my house, Sarah Raven's Complete Christmas Food Flowers (Bloomsbury, £25).
Even if you've time to do no more than pop a candle on a plate and ring it with foliage, flowers and berries, your efforts will bring appreciative yips from visitors, and a feeling of something real in this glitzy season.
jpowers@irishtimes.com