Reading the bones

Shakespeare must have been looking out his window in February when he wrote, “Now is the winter of our discontent.” As I write this, we’ve had four weeks of well-below-average temperatures. The ground is frozen with a layer of snow, and worst of all, the wind sweeping down from Saskatchewan is gusting at 35 mph. Not much is happening at 3,000 feet here in Madison County.

Bare bones: Winter is a good time to view and plan garden basics. photo by Edmund R. Taylor

By the time you read this, of course, things may have shifted. And even now the days are clearly getting longer, and the titmouse has tentatively started whistling his “peter-peter-peter” tune, even if I can’t hear it over the roaring of the wind. When I look at the calendar, I know we’re on the far side of the abyss, even though we’re still firmly in the grip of winter. With conditions like these, what’s a gardener to do that doesn’t involve glossy catalogs or browsing the Internet?

Actually, winter can be one of the most productive times for gardeners, because the “bones” aren’t masked by the abundance of summer. It’s the ideal season to take a hard look at the garden while summer’s party dress is still in the closet.

What do we mean by structure, and why is it important? Structure refers to anything that’s relatively massive and can be noticed from a distance. Its primary purpose is to define the garden by enclosing space, just as a house is created by enclosing space with walls.

Not all plants are structural elements; a daffodil neither helps create volume nor delineates space. On the other hand, a holly hedge is a strong structural element: massive, visually hard and visible from a distance. Common features that help provide structure are woody plants (especially evergreens and conifers), walls, terraces, paths, steps, fences and buildings. By virtue of their solidity, all these features vertically and horizontally compartmentalize and define the garden space, creating the bones that support and unify the more ephemeral elements such as that daffodil. Structural components are the beams supporting the stage on which the other plants perform their seasonal acts. Without it, all you have is a yard with plants, not a garden.

And winter is the time to assess your garden’s bone structure, before the glorious distractions of spring start to appear. Even now, there should be a satisfying solidity and sense of place. If your garden lacks these qualities, try to figure out what’s missing or doesn’t work.

Study the layout and how it unfolds and moves. If it bleeds into the surrounding neighborhood and feels amorphous, create some definition using hedges, walls or masses of shrubs. If it feels pinched or trite, the structural components are probably not massive enough. Maybe the path is too narrow, the stones edging the beds are too small, or perhaps the arbor you made last summer out of 4-by-4s should have been made of 8-by-8s. When dealing with structure, we tend to err on the side of too slight rather than too grand, and the result can feel insubstantial.

Here’s a good winter exercise: Pay attention to the feelings that are elicited as you walk through your garden. They will tell you whether you’ve created a satisfying space. If you feel unsatisfied, analyze why and visualize alternatives; then see how you feel. Visualization is a great tool (it’s cheap too), and it’s best done by yourself, quietly and without time constraints. It can also be helpful to have another person in the garden to stimulate ideas, especially after you’ve put in some solitary time.

This whole process can be a lot of fun. Gardening friends or spouses will enjoy participating in the exercise and will often feel complimented by being asked for input. What’s more, the exercise enhances your ability to see. Seeing is like any other activity: The more you consciously do it, the better you get. And the better you get, the richer your gardening experience becomes.

You can practice analyzing almost anywhere: sitting in traffic staring at the median planting, in a friend’s garden or at an arboretum. Wherever there are plantings, you can turn a critical eye on them.

And remember: It’s just as important to note what’s right with the vignette in front of you as it is to zero in on what’s wrong. Both help refine your aesthetic sensibility—and thus increase your enjoyment of the garden. Make this exercise an annual winter ritual and, over time, you’ll reap enormous dividends.

[Garden designer Edmund R. Taylor lives and gardens in the wilds of Madison County. He can be reached at swallowtailgardendesigns@hughes.net]