Willows in winter

Ah, the garden in winter.

One hears often of the wonders of the winter garden and wonders oneself what could be exciting in any garden after a long night of steady snow, the kind that comes silently and in glorious flakes, some even a full inch in diameter. The morning or mid-morning light reveals large marshmallow mounds where last evening stood vehicles, shrubs, sheds and benches. If one cannot locate the front walk by its proximity to the house, all other landmarks having disappeared under the soft, white sheet, one may find oneself having shoveled a path to the Dumpster instead of the car, as one marshmallow looks much like another — albeit they are sized for giants.

What does any of this have to do with gardening? Much more than is apparent. We have discovered what the winter garden needs — some features that stand above the snow level. Trees, fences, hedges — these might all serve, and are elements that commonly appear in our gardens. How, then, can one of these be exploited to enhance the winter garden? Here are some ideas.

Let us concentrate on trees, as they are in good supply and have height enough to look down on the efforts of the most determined of snowfalls. What winter interest do they offer? A deciduous tree has each its own distinctive habit — rounded, spreading, weeping, columnar, which can in itself be pleasing, and the color variety of bark is vast, including white, cream, yellow, gold, orange, red, copper, rust, brown, tan, gray and black. Decidedly, winter supplies us with ample blacks, whites and grays, so cultivating a tree with another color bark would brighten the pallet.

A tree might also provide winter fruit or flowers. Impossible in Alaska, you say? Not so. The ubiquitous Prunus padus, commonly the Mayday tree or bird cherry, and a number of Malus, those to which we refer as “flowering” crabs, have fruit that persists throughout the winter months or until the first flocks of Bohemian Waxwings or Rosy Grosbeaks come to dine. The Mayday enlivens the winter landscape with panicles of shiny berries that glisten in the sun like beady black eyes, and mature specimens sport a deep coppery bark. The crab apples warm winter with vivid red fruit, reminiscent of puckering lips, lustrous with gloss.

As for winter flowers, our several species of native willows are lovely, reliable and abundant. Usually during a warm period in January, catkins will begin to appear, rather modest on the female plants, showier on the separate male plants. The pussy willows, as the catkins are commonly known (whether so named for the “cat” in catkin or for their sometimes resemblance to kittens, I do not know), will remain and increase until spring and range in appearance from fuzzy silver balls to coarse yellow crescents. Taken singly, the catkins are inconspicuous, but en masse, smothering a tree, they are striking.

Birds bring a charm to winter, both color to a monotone landscape and music to a muted world, and trees play an important role in attracting them. As we have already seen, the migraters love bird cherries and crab apples, as well as other persistent winter fruit such as mountain ash and all birds need a place to perch. Even the ground feeders, like the Redpolls, prefer not to spend their nights in a snow bank. And chickadees often hold a seed in one foot while opening it, a process more easily accomplished from the firm purchase of a tree branch than on a shifting blanket of snow.

It is time now to introduce conifers to the winter scene as a place of refuge for the birds that have come to feed and perch on our deciduous trees, Not only do conifers provide shelter for birds, their evergreen habit cheers up the color pallet in shades of green: muted kaki, seafoam, dark forest, pale lime, frosted blue and a myriad of others. Conifer, or evergreen, cones (one could think of these as flowers) are cheerful as well, bringing to mind the winter holidays and the immature cones can be bluish, reddish or purplish, often quite vibrantly so.

Evergreens, I will admit, are great snow catchers and succumb as readily as do their dwarfish garden companions to a silent night-long siege by immense snowflakes. However, one can still find the evergreens; they emerge into day, not as marshmallows, but as marshmallow cream fountains, and are thereby easily identified. Ah, the garden in winter.

Hally Truelove is a Master Gardener and Plants Woman who lives and gardens in Wasilla with her two daughters, a handful of cats, a bunch of bunnies, some guinea pigs, a dog and a frog. Contact her at 376-0909.