Winter

winter1The winter garden is quiet. After snowfall comes the deepest stillness of the year. A hushed white blanket amplifies space and armature.

Leafless, the garden form speaks. Curves interlock and embrace the house. Stone walls and geometric sculptures stand out below watchful trees. Boulders anchor the earth, their grip and mass more evident now that the plants rest below ground. Granite steps lead to the woodland, so dark and soundless it could be primordial forest.

If you listen closely, you can hear the weeping yews and conifers, the first inhabitants of this garden, whisper in a morning breeze. Light plays through needled textures. Glossy, satin, and crenelated blend. Barks are varied as skin. Greens darken to their deepest winter hues.

Nandina berries and scarlet ‘Sango Kaku’ shoots declare the life force of the garden asleep below.

 

— Kathy Hudson

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