Helleborus orientalis

Beginning in late February, in a sheltered corner that catches the sun, the earliest Hellebores begin to bloom.

Magnolia buds in late winter

Magnolia trees should also be valued for their contribution to the winter garden. By February and March, the buds become a showy feature, although not often considered. While the season of Magnolia bloom is fleeting, the buildup in the months before is one of the great pleasures of the changing seasons. Like ornamental grasses in winter, the effect is magnified if the light shines through the branches. Each fuzzy bud picks up a halo of silver. 

Miscanthus sinensis in February

Sun in the winter garden can be magical. The effect on ornamental grasses is particularly punchy, as this clump of Miscanthus sinensis shows. Not all ornamental grasses stand up this well so far into winter, and to some extent their longevity depends on the severity of the winter, especially the amount of snow. If they can be positioned in the garden so that they are backlit by the winter sun, possibly with darker evergreens as a foil, their presence is as exciting as anything the summer garden has to offer.

Hamamelis intermedia Primavera

While there is still snow in the forecast for Toronto, some plants are getting into the spring spirit already. I spotted this Witch Hazel earlier this week, in mid-February, doing its thing modestly and with some sweetness. The other season in which Hamamelis shine is fall, when the leaves turn various shades of yellow through bright orange and fiery red.

Calamagrostis arundinacea brachytricha

Another ornamental grass that can still look stunning in February sunlight is Calamagrostis arundinacea var. brachytricha. It is closely related to a more frequently seen grass, the ‘Karl Foerster’ feather reed grass. By this time of year in Toronto, however, ‘Karl Foerster’ has lost its seed heads while the brachytricha has not.

Cornus alba stems with gold foliage of a Thuja occidentalis

Both the gold foliage of the Thuja occidentalis and the red stems of the Cornus are enhanced by their association. Late winter really is the time when coloured bark and evergreens show their worth. Many evergreens change their colouring in the winter, so it is important to find out what their effect will be at different times of the year before making a choice. I’m increasingly impressed by the value of evergreens in the garden, particularly when our winter (off-) season lasts four months! The change in foliage colour makes them even more attractive as features in small gardens, where they can associate differently in different seasons with a variety of other shrubs and perennials.

Ligularia dentata 'Desdemona'

Ligularia is a surprise contributor to the winter garden. I have read people advocating removing the brassy-yellow daisy-like blooms, which has always seemed a little extreme to me. They are not elegant by any stretch of the imagination, but such censorship seems likely to close off garden possibilities — the possibiliy that something unexpected might strike your eye — and thereby to inhibit change and evolution in the garden. Leaving the spent flowers standing through the fall, more from oversight than plan, has delighted me with the fuzzy seed-heads into late winter. Despite their fragility, they have lasted well and deserve notice when planning the four-season garden.

Helleborus hybridus Picotee

Evergreen perennials really come into their own in winter. Even in Toronto’s punishing winter with its freeze-thaw cycles there are some perennials that stand up well. Hellebores and ivys can look terrific through most of winter, as here. This vignette depends on the contrasting leaf sizes and shapes balanced by the similarities of colouring. The deep green is marked by yellow veining and burgundy petioles on both plants. This colouration, particularly the burgundy petioles would have been less noticeable on the ivy without the central burgundy splash on the hellebore leaf. This pairing is definitely more than the sum of its parts!

Liriope muscari variegata in February

In Toronto, late January and early February often brings on garden blues, especially when warm, snowless weather reveals the debris of the previous growing season before the new season is even on the horizon. In England, this is the time of hellebores, witch hazel, primulas and other harbingers of spring. No such luck here. Snowdrops are still weeks away. In trying to dispel my gloomy mood, I took my camera out into the garden. Here is some of  what caught my eye:

Clematis terniflora in crab apple

I’m a big fan of clematis. Their contribution to the winter garden is often overlooked. Most have curled seed heads that remain attractive through the fall and well into winter. Clematis terniflora is particularly satisfying in this regard. And because of its habit of self-seeding, there are sure to be several spots around the garden where the fluffy cascades can be admired.

Panicum virgatum in mid-winter

This clump of Panicum virgatum is in front of a yew hedge. Although somewhat battered by many weeks of winter snow and rain, the inflorescences still sparkle against the dark background.

Miscanthus sinensis ‘Morning Light’

‘Morning Light’ Miscanthus is one of the airiest maiden grasses and is shy with its blooms. It is grown for the fineness of its variegated leaves that move in the slightest wind. Their wonderful swirling continues to be attractive in winter. It makes a good companion for a “Pee Gee” Hydrangea because it leavens the heavy blooms of the shrub. Their colour in winter is almost identical.

Daphne transatlantica with stonecrop in mid-winter

The combination of orange-brown sedum seed-heads and blue-green winter foliage of the daphne is the most dramatic phase of their pairing. The daphne is covered in fragrant white blooms in spring and sporadically later in the season. But it is as an evergreen foliage plant that it really stands out. In spring and summer the sedum foliage beside the daphne also has a blue cast, making a subtle contrast with the finer crisp leaves of the daphne. Then, when it blooms, the pinkish tone and diffuse texture of the stonecrop makes a romantic harmony. As a swan-song, the winter display is eye-catching in a way that the pairing never was during the growing season.

sedum "Autumn Joy" and asters in October

By late October there is nothing more to orchestrate and everything can be left to sprawl and bloom with abandon. The hard-working sedum “Autumn Joy” comes into its own and having neglected to weed out the multitude of self-seeding asters pays big dividends. The chocolate Joe Pye weed or boneset is contributing its white blooms while its foliage sets off the colours of the asters. I love the myriad shades of mauve and blue that are the result of random hybridizations. The earlier bright yellow of the rudbeckia “Goldsturm” is gone, leaving behind the dark punctuation marks of the seed-heads. This part of the border tends to look a bit of a mess in mid-summer, but with so much else to do (especially watering and dead-heading) it is never the top of the list. And then, when chillier and damp weather is setting in, it is transformed, an unexpected gift.