Nature’s white blanket is a blessing for gardeners, but it’s hard on wildlife – this phase of winter when daylight grows, but no plants come to life, when the wind gusts so forcefully it takes away your breath.

Yet, at this very moment, there are places on Earth that are deliciously warm. There are places drenched in sunlight where people must mow their lawns, water their potted flowers, wear their lightest clothing and rest in the shade because it’s just too darned hot. And when there’s nothing better to do, these poor souls must lie in the sun, bask in the heat, give in to the sun. They don’t have to think about bulky coats, goofy snow boots or where they left their mittens. They don’t dread shoveling snow.

You, dear reader, may find this strange, but I have no desire to be in one of those deliciously warm places. I know, you’re wondering how I can be dreaming of warmth and sun like that and not want to be transported there. Truth is, I love winter. And if you’re a gardener, you might consider that, just maybe, you could love winter, too. Well, OK, you don’t have to love winter, but maybe you can find some level of comfort knowing that all this snow is serving a good purpose.

Here, in the chilly north, a nice, thick layer of the fluffy stuff shields plants from the damaging elements of winter. Snow is the perfect insulator against the cold. Tiny air pockets between the frozen water crystals buffer the ground against low or fluctuating temperatures.

Nothing is harder on plants that the constant whipping of wind over the bare winter ground or the constant freezing and thawing that happens during an icy or open winter.

Yet, that which is a blessing for our plants is a hindrance for treasured wildlife. Here in the rolling hills of Waldo County, you’re bound to see your share of wildlife, but this week I felt like I was among the creatures featured in a documentary on native winter fauna.

One morning, I was working at my computer when I caught something out of the corner of my eye. I looked up and saw movement again, but the light was poor and I couldn’t make anything out. Before I knew it, a very large, very elegant snowshoe hare hopped by, not 30 feet away. I’ve never seen a snowshoe hare (and have spotted only one wild rabbit, for that matter) so this was a real treat. I donned my jacket and went out to inspect the tracks made by its kickers. They meandered through the yard, on through the pasture, over a rock wall and into the woods.

Also, I was astonished to see in the yard this week two eastern bluebirds. We have our share of these lovely creatures in summer, but never have I seen any during the winter. One birder’s guide noted that bluebirds eat insects and fruits, and that their winter range is southern New England, west to eastern New Mexico and south to Mexico.

I spotted the pair perching on the branches of a wild rosebush that grows under a dense white pine tree. Perhaps they are living in a cavity of a nearby tree. I don’t know what they could be eating. Perhaps rose hips.

And then, of course, there are the turkeys. A dozen toms mosey through regularly, and they made an appearance in the back yard this week. They have amazingly long beards. These long feathers dangle from between their chin and chest and trail along on the snow. We watched them for quite a while as they walked along, sinking only 3 or 4 inches into the snow. They, too, located some wild roses and jumped about trying to grasp some of the fruits on the upper branches.

Sadly, the feeding-chuckle that turkeys make in the summer was noticeably absent as they wandered along, sampling continuously from the insects and seeds throughout the yard and pasture. They quietly paraded by, their thick, dark feathers ruffling to and fro in the harsh, gusting wind.

Aside from the rose hips, it is beyond me what the turkeys could be eating. In fall, we often see them under beech trees pecking away at the ample supply of beechnuts. Obviously, though, that supply of nuts is under quite a depth of snow. One dairy farmer I spoke with recently reported these uninvited guests often steal a hearty helping of corn from his grain bins. But there is no such booty here and the pickings are slim.

Whatever your yard provides in the way of winter wonders, I do hope you enjoy the snow. Spring is not long away and soon one morning we’ll walk outside, hear the water running off the land as the snow melts, and smell the earth coming to life.

I remind myself, as these brisk winter days begin to lengthen and eke out more minutes of daylight, that the heat of summer will be here soon. Soon I’ll be struggling with the wretched lawn mower, pushing the thing for what’ll seem like miles under the unbearably hot sun. I’ll remind myself that soon I’ll be dreaming about mounds of snow and all things deliciously cold.

Diana George Chapin is the NEWS garden columnist. Send horticulture questions to Gardening Questions, RR1, Box 2120, Montville 04941, or e-mail them to dianagc@ctel.net. Selected questions will be answered in future columns. Include name, address and telephone number.