Nineteenth-century man of letters, Ralph Waldo Emerson, wrote, “I please myself with the graces of the winter scenery, and believe that we are as much touched by it as by the genial influences of summer.”
While winter’s grip is firmly on our lives, perhaps we can make the most of the particular beauty of winter gardens.
Like Emerson, we can enjoy the elegance and grace of gardens stripped of their summer finery, but not of their beauty. Looking at public and private gardens when flowers are gone, and leaves have fallen affords us a fresh appreciation for nature’s beauty and resilience.
Living in a moderate climate as we do, winter in Maryland allows a wide variety of trees and plants to survive. Perhaps spending some time admiring the silhouettes, forms, and designs unique to winter’s landscapes will reawaken our appreciation of our own gardens and even inspire us to plan additions and adjustments with an eye to future winter garden scenes.
“A garden is exciting for me when it looks good through the year, and not just at one particular time,” says Dutch garden designer Piet Oudolf. “I want to go outside and for it to be interesting in all weather, in early spring and late autumn.” He has gained a following in the U.S. and Europe for his year-round approach to garden design, called the “New Perennial Movement.” In 2008, in a New York Times interview, Oudolf spoke about his appreciation of a winter garden: “The skeletons of the plants are for me as important as the flowers.” Have you walked the High Line in New York City or visited Chicago’s Lurie Garden in Millennium Park? If you have, or even if you’ve just read about these modern horticultural wonders, then you’ve experienced Oudolf’s work in the United States.
We may rekindle our appreciation for a garden’s beauty by looking, as Oudolf does, for those skeletal plants and trees. With the 21st century “New Perennial Movement” in mind, let me take you on a tour of trees, shrubs, and plants that you might watch for.
Let’s begin our tour at ground or snow level, and work our way up; let me direct your gaze to ornamental grasses, sedum, shrubs, and the skeletons of perennials. Even the weeds on the edge of vacant lots or creeping into empty buildings may be worthy of note. (This may be the one time of year when we can look without frustration at pesky weeds—dried stalks of milkweed, nettle, bittercress, or stiltgrass.)
Ornamental grasses are elegant winter beauties. Japanese Forest Grass, with its gracefully drooping, ecru fronds, and Little Blue Stem’s striking red and blue blades stand out when so much of the landscape is gray and brown. We may gasp with admiration at the graceful plumes of Pampas, Sea Oats, or Feather Grass; they usually remain unbowed by harsh, winter winds. If you see a particularly handsome grass waving in the wind, break off a frond; take that home and see if you can identify it. (Better Homes & Gardens has useful pictures and descriptions of ornamental grasses to help you: bhg.com/gardening/flowers/perennials/ornamental-grasses) There may be a place for an ornamental grass in your spring planting scheme.
Do you notice some bread-plate size, dried blooms among the grasses? That may be one of the showy sedums; they’re stars both in summer and winter. These sturdy succulents grow in dry conditions, provide a wide variety of beautiful foliage and flowers, and, better yet, they look great in the winter, particularly the tall varieties. Because their stalks are fairly thick, they too can withstand the harshness of most winter winds, remaining upright and handsome. Garden Gate magazine recommends several varieties, including the striking Samuel Oliphant, notable for its 30 inches of variegated green and cream leaves edged in burgundy, with fluffy, pink flowers that turn to deeper rose in cold weather. Another dramatic sedum you might spot on your wanderings is the Purple Emperor. Dark purple stems and deep lavender blooms catch your attention year-round.
“And what about shrubs?” you ask. Well, we’re probably more accustomed to admiring winter hedges and shrubs. The compact, tiny, deep green leaves of the boxwood hedges are old friends, particularly if you live in or near historic homes. Boxwood plants and hedges have set off formal gardens dating back to Colonial times in the Americas, and even earlier in Britain. In fact, sprigs of boxwood were used as cockades for Colonial soldiers marching off to fight the British. Winterberry is another old, familiar beauty. It’s bright red berries catch one’s eye. The winterberry is so hardy that it’s planted in the green medians between opposing lanes of highway traffic in many parts of Maryland. By the time winter rolls in, the arching branches of winterberry shrubs have lost their green leaves and are thickly lined with tiny, cardinal-red berries.
While we’re admiring color, let’s pause a moment to consider the sight of winter-blooming camellias. In protected flowerbeds, camellia usually retain their foliage throughout the winter. Some types of camellia, usually the Japanese varieties, produce flowers in the winter, a real treat to see. Camellia japonica and Camellia sasanqua are the two varieties commonly cultivated in our zone. Flowers of pink, rose, and white may have single or multi-layered petals. The slightly fleshy, rosy blooms resemble pink-cheeked children in winter.
Hydrangea too provides stark beauty. The blousy, summer blooms of blue and violet fade in the winter to parchment, ecru, and eggshell. They often hang from the tips of the hydrangea branches, nodding in the winter winds. Sunflowers and cornflowers to retain their summer blooms. The large, brown disks that were once sunflower faces can serve as winter’s take-out restaurants for the garden’s birds and squirrels.
Witch hazel presents another color pallet in winter. Tall and wide when allowed to spread, the shrub’s gold and yellow leaves stand out against its winter neighbors. One suggestion for a winter still life might be to plant lavender near witch hazel. Witch hazel’s yellow-gold will complement the silvery green of lavender in winter.
The winter flower competition wouldn’t be complete without a show of Christmas roses, Hellebores. The white, purple, rose, or pale pink flowers of the Christmas rose raise their heads from the snowy ground delicately. The plants are a bit leggy, so they’ll stand above the snow, dramatically displaying their beautiful blooms.
You’re probably getting a bit chilly; all this was walking about in the crisp winter air. So, let’s conclude our tour looking up.
Lift your eyes above the earthier beauties to our magnificent trees in winter. The elegant deciduous trees— maples, oaks, birches, sycamore, and linden—stripped bare of leaves, display their graceful or muscular branches against the sky. I like to pause at a distance and observe a tree’s crown. One can envision its root system by imagining the tree flipped upside down. The crown loosely mirrors the root ball. Isn’t that wonderful?
And, of course, there are the conifers. They offer us their greenery when our eyes ache for spring. The majestic, long-lived cypress, the tightly branched junipers, the fragrant, soft firs. We can usually find them and even name these old friends. And don’t we appreciate the plucky white pine? Plant a little sprig almost anywhere, and within a few years, a lovely, long-needled pine will rise and flourish, protecting soil, providing privacy and noise reduction.
There’s even an American Conifer Society to support and defend these ubiquitous trees, all 588 species. Their website (conifersociety.org) reminds us, “Garden conifers come in a rainbow of year-round colors that can be used effectively with companion plants. Many are shades of green, yellow, orange, blue, lavender, or purple, while others are bicolor… and have variegated foliage with patterns of stripes, spots, and patches.”
I guess that means if you find winter disheartening and you need a pick-me-up, seek a tree. Let your eyes rest on those glossy holly leaves with their red berries for punctuation. Or, admire the mahogany- or golden-lobed oak leaves that sometimes cling to their branches all winter. A stately blue spruce will welcome your admiration, and you’ll probably have the added surprise of a few, small songbirds residing among the silver-blue branches.
I hope you come away from our winter walk with lifted spirits and an idea or two for your garden. The garden and its plants and trees are our life’s companions.
