Colour my world
Does your garden have winter interest? Unless there’s a fresh coat of pristine snow on mine in February, it’s as likely to be covered in grubby slush. And when a good thaw does reveal what’s below, it looks like the bottom of a beer slopped ashtray in a 1967 sports bar after the Leafs won the — what was it again?
Compared to summertime, the garden is a dull canvas awaiting a fresh splash of colour. If I do get a brief glimpse between snowing and melting, there is colour about, even though I don’t make a point of introducing it.
When not snow covered, the grass is as green as it is during summer and although there’s not normally anything in bloom at this time of year, I spotted a brave yellow wallflower on Feb. 3 that insists on hanging on. The Scottish moss is as bright as ever, and the tall stalks of perennials always look good with white caps perched on their seed heads, until heavy wet snow causes them to bow and doff their caps.
Otherwise, colours are muted and this is where evergreens get to show off. Conifers come in a surprising range of colours other than green. The good old blue spruce is ever blue, of course, and the gold juniper is far from plain green. If I had a second garden, or a third, I’d love to fill it with only conifers, but I’d still be tempted to add deciduous trees to contribute their own grace and beauty. With skeletal branches in winter, they’re extras in this seasonal play, best viewed under a full moon. Branches coated with fresh snow are a bonus.
Most smaller shrubs are in muted colours after blooming in spring or summer. They add fall hues, then as winter arrives and snow drifts over them, they become abstract forms undulating around the yard. Without snow they look like they’re expecting the undertaker.
What we really need is more snow, even if it does mean more driveway shovelling, or as I prefer to think of as off-season garden training. Winter has been strangely mild this year, and while borderline hardy plants might have a better chance of making it to spring, a lack of snow when the temperature dives is a shock to the system for many. Then stems split, roots heave and sneaky rabbits and bold squirrels take advantage of the situation.
My preferred winter garden is covered with deep, fresh snow to insulate and protect plants. It also shows off the bones, the shapes and structures that give it form. Arbours, pergolas, gazebos, rain barrels and even the old compost heap add interesting elevation when covered in snow, and my old bench becomes a true benchmark for judging snow depth. Even a rusting old swing set has a certain appeal.
Alas, there’s little anyone can do about the vagaries of nature, but when it is sunny and the snow isn’t drifted over the compost heap, it’s a perfect time to go forth and prune. Trees and shrubs are dormant and it’s easier to see what needs trimming but think twice or three times before squeezing those pruners. And it’s also an opportunity to get gym-free exercise, fresh air and a dose of natural vitamin D.
OK, I thought about it, but the clippers and pruners are buried in the shed somewhere, so I’ve decided to wait until March instead. Maybe I’ll go walk around a winter greenhouse instead where I can sniff the fresh seedlings, pretend it’s spring, and well, you know — just browse. That would be winter interesting.
Today, Seedy Saturday takes place at the Kitchener Public Library (85 Queen St. N.) 9 a.m. to 2:30 p.m.
Sunday, March 3 is the Galt Horticultural Societies 31st Annual Dream Garden Conference. For more information, visit galthort.com/dream-garden-conference-2022/