It is a day for wool sweaters and outdoor jumping jacks. Freshly clipped juniper and Douglas Fir lie scattered on an outside table; the chilled air heightens their rich winter smells.
Sheri Hargus, a petite woman with happy blue eyes and long, chestnut-brown hair, holds garden shears in one hand and bunches of greenery in the other.
"I make wreaths every year for friends," says Hargus, standing in the wreath-making shed at Magnolia Garden Center. "Doesn't everybody do that?"
This afternoon, Hargus, a Magnolia resident for 20 years, places fresh salal, Oregon grape, cedar and snowberry clippings - picked on a recent trip to Orcas Island - around a metal wreath ring. She adds juniper and incense cedar, purchased at the Garden Center, and uses the in-store wreath-making machine to fasten the clippings together. The machine clamps the foliage and allows for larger wreaths.
"Different groups come in here to use the machine," says Margaret Flaherty, who co-owns Magnolia Garden Center with her husband. "We have dads and daughters and a lot of people bring clippings from their yard so that the wreaths that they make are very personal."
Hargus usually makes her wreaths by hand, but this year she is trying the machine. The results look promising. Her wreaths, a well-clamped palette of greens, offer a fresh scent of holiday cheer.
We pause to inhale the piney smells.
"I like to make wreaths out of clippings from my garden." says Hargus, who has been a wreath-maker for more than 25 years. "During the winter it is nice to have greenery in your house."
Once, Hargus, a mother of four, took a wreath-making class at Woodland Park Zoo. Participants picked up windfall from the zoo grounds and made wreaths with natural indigenous plants such as salal, a native Northwest evergreen shrub yielding berries that were a staple food for coastal Indians.
"They showed us how to use what we have in the Northwest," says Hargus, who has incorporated noxious weeds like Scotch Broom into her wreaths. "It actually looked really pretty."
Wreaths, the circular garlands woven of flowers, leaves and foliage, date back to ancient Roman and Greek cultures. In ancient Greece wreaths, usually made of olive or pine, were awarded to winning athletes.
In Sweden, the Swedish Crown of Lights, a wreath of candles, is worn by young Swedish girls on St. Lucia's Day, the beginning of Christmas celebrations.
"Wreath making goes back a long ways," Hargus says as she clips and clamps her Northwest plants. "It is a recurring symbol in all cultures, and it represents life's bounty."
According to Gary McAuley, author of "The Heroes Journey," Christmas wreaths are an ancient symbol and were traditionally made of evergreens, holly and ivy. The wreath's circle symbolizes the wheel of the year and the completion of another cycle.
On this crisp November day, wreath making serves as a lovely reprieve.
"Wreaths represent a circle of life and how things go around," say Hargus, a soothing woman who makes you want to start a family and focus on the simple things.
She recalls memories of wreath making with girlfriends on her property in Mt. Baker. The women collect greenery while they snowshoe and then bring the clippings inside. Together they make hot chocolate or perhaps hot toddies and, with these nice warm drinks in hand, attend to their wreaths.
"At the end everyone has something beautiful to show for it," says Hargus. "Throughout the year, when you look at your wreath it brings back the memory of your friends."
The metal wreath rings, necessary for the machine, are $4.99 at the Garden Center; people generally call up to make an appointment for using the machine. Garden Center people are happy to show people how to use the wreath-making clamper.
Ritzy Ryciak is a freelance writer living in Seattle. You can write her at rtjameson@nwlink.com.[[In-content Ad]]
