The Mid-Winter Garden

Here in mid-Devon, like much of the country, there have been severe frosts, followed by flooding, followed by freezing fogs, followed by snow and then when you’re ready to throw in the towel for winter, we have been blessed with a day thick with birdsong and the brightest blue and cloudless of skies.

I don’t think we have had it quite so chilly for a few years. Not great for heating our homes given the current cost of living crisis but great for our gardens and allotments.

The cold is necessary in so many ways:

1. Remember those daffodil and tulip bulbs you planted in the autumn? Well, a period of cold weather is needed to stimulate stem growth, temperatures of less than 10 degrees centigrade cause the elongation of the stem and many bulbs need at least ten weeks of such cold conditions to ensure successful growth.

2. Your garden may seem barren with all those herbaceous perennials having died back. They are seemingly inert; you may wonder if they’ll ever grow again but there’s plenty going on below ground. In winter these plants no longer gain their energy through photosynthesis. Instead, they store the carbohydrates they make from water and carbon dioxide in their roots as starch. The onset of cold weather is a trigger that causes enzymes in the root to convert the starch back into soluble sugars. These sugars can then be sent to the growing tips of the plants in preparation for the first flush of growth, come the spring. It’s this same process that goes to make your root vegetables such as carrots and parsnips, all the more sweeter after the frosts.

3. Certain fruit trees such as apples, plums and pears need a cold period with a certain number of days under 7 degrees centigrade. The cold comes with reduced daylight hours that induce the trees to go into their dormant phase, where they no longer need to photosynthesize and so they lose their leaves – this is a process known as vernalisation. Only after this cold period will the trees burst into their glorious growth when the temperatures have risen. This process ensures that the trees do not accidentally grow and bloom in autumn rather than spring.

4. Certain seeds scattered by their parent plant need to be ‘vernalised’ before they germinate. Sweet peas, for example, need their hard coats to be weathered by the cold and frost. Other seeds need this cold and moist weather to trigger the seed embryo to develop and then burst through the softened seed coat and so germinate. Germination occurring only after a cold period ensures the seed will be more likely to develop and survive. Germinating earlier in the year, say in autumn, would likely mean the young shoots would be killed off by frosts or eaten by wildlife when there is far less food around.

So, although we may bemoan the chilly days, Mother Nature very much has her reasons. And for our suffering, often at this time of year we are rewarded with the most incredible sunrises and sunsets of coral and crimson, with the sun’s soft rays outlining each frosted blade of grass and each bare branch of the silvery landscape.

This rich blend of fiery reds occurs because the sun is low in the sky and so must pass through more of our atmosphere. This means more of the blue, yellow and violet wavelengths are scattered, and so we are left with the red, gold and orange.

So, as we hunker down in the warmth of our homes, it is a chance for us to reflect and consider. Looking through the window onto our outside spaces, they may seem lacking in structure and interest, with too much bare earth and a dearth of life.

This is a time for dreaming and planning. What could be improved? How can we bring in the wildlife? How can we ensure that next year you are looking at a garden with form and interest, even in the depths of winter?

It can start small, with a border that has been developed mindfully of the seasons or perhaps, it is time for bigger change; a discussion about an entire garden design so that come the summer you are enjoying the fulfilment of your mid-winter dreams?

I, for one, have taken this time to rethink my own small garden and I’ll be sure to document its development on this blog, from a muddy square to an welcoming outside room full of colour, texture, scent and life.

See you next time,

Sam