It’s undeniable. I wish I could grow flowers all year long. What childish heart wouldn’t agree? My earliest concepts of a beautiful garden definitely swarmed with numerous flower forms and colors. Neither the length of summer nor my yard could contain them all. But, truth as it happens, defies my wish. True, this past autumn was delightfully long and mild. My summer plants flourished into November, but the inevitable frost came and bit them all. The flowers are asleep or forever gone.
Garden experts like to warn you of such a thing. Plan for winter interest, for color and texture in every season. I never read gardening books as a child: I just skipped through them until I came to pictures of flowers. You can do that with books but not with real time. Sigh.
Now, here are a few points of wisdom I’ve learned from reading garden books. Winter allows your soil to rest and your perennial plants to rejuvenate. The absence of life in your garden provides you with a blank slate to begin to craft anew. Winter can be a time of hope and preparation.
Well, sure…but what about beauty? The truth is that these writers keep advising me to plan for winter interest in the garden. Who wants to think about that when your garden is burgeoning with brilliance? Why make room for foliage when flowers abound? Thus, I think. I’m gradually coming around, though. Perhaps you might say I am maturing. Winter does come. Flowers do die. The landscape can be quite gloomy. What can you do about?
Here are a few success stories from my winter experiments. You’ll see that I haven’t mastered the art or the dedication necessary for a lovely, sweeping winter landscape. These are truthfully small pockets of color, plants that can be combined in later years with more mastery with other plants. I’ll give you some particulars of these winter successes and their pros and cons.
Some of these little winter annuals are well-known and readily available from your local plant stores. Take pansies, snapdragons, dusty miller and such. Others I discovered observing indoor and outdoor foliage arrangements around town, such as, those little plantings in front of banks, funeral homes, hospitals and such. I had seen ornamental cabbage but didn’t love it. When I noticed a bouquet of kale in one of my friend’s front foyer, however, my brain began to formulate new ideas. Try the vegetables available in your local zone, found either as small plants or seeds. (As a side note, we do not eat the things I plant in my flower gardens because I don’t trust the insecticides and fungicides I use on my roses. My children know not to eat these leaves.)
The first interesting winter plant: Mayan Jagaur lettuce, a variety of romaine. I bought seeds from Southern Exposure Seed Exchange and started them in flats in the Fall. Most of the seedlings went into my vegetable gardens, but a few made their way to the front. Next year, I will bring more up front, because it formed a full and vibrant head of lettuce, much like huge roses growing at ground level.

The Mayan Jaguar lettuce survived frost and snow. It’s been an unusually cold winter this January. The outer leaves finally began to show damage, browning and wilting, after several weeks of below-freezing temperatures at night. I just read, however, from Walter Reeves (the Georgia Gardener) that you should deeply water your cold-hardy annuals the night before a deep freeze in order to help them survive. I certainly did not do that. Next year, hopefully. By the way, this lettuce performed excellently in my vegetable garden and had a sweet, crunchy taste.

Honestly, I don’t want to say much about these winter standbys, probably because my pictures fail to inspire. About everyone knows, however, that pansies and their relatives are the go-to for winter interest. My fall-planted violas did not grow very big this year. In past years, I have fertilized them monthly with bloodmeal and they bloomed and grew exceptionally. Later, I read that you should use a more balanced fertilizer since bloodmeal only provides nitrogen. Did I act on that? No. I didn’t want to spend money on another bag of fertilizer and my plants suffered for it.


Here’s my original experimental plant for the winter garden. After seeing my friend’s big bouquets, I planted kale in my flower bed and had large, beautiful heads to liven up the brown landscape. I’m afraid that this year my kale has a tale identical to my pansies: I didn’t fertilize and water them so they are a bit wimpy.

This one deserves an exclamation mark, although I didn’t give it one. I have been delighted with my experiments with mustards. My first ornamental mustard, I grew from seed after selecting it from Southern Exposure Seed Exchange’s catalog: Ruby Giant. How could I go wrong with a reportedly healthy grower with bright red leaves? It was beautiful. I thought I was a genius. I was both gratified and annoyed to discover that Ruby Giant Mustards were all over the local plant market that year. My bright idea had apparently been simultaneously discovered by other geniuses. Either that, or they already knew about Ruby Giant and I had not noticed.

After that slightly tainted garden victory, I was elated to find yet another beautiful mustard in the Southern Exposure Seed Exchange catalog–I do shop from other suppliers–the Ruby Streaks Mustard. This mustard has a long, lacey leaf colored a deep red atop and chartreuse, green below. I love the textured pattern of the leaves, but I would warn you that these plants tend to flop a bit. The Ruby Giant forms strong, upright leaves. Ruby Streaks tends to become prone and spread out. I am sure that with proper planning, you could find the right garden companion for it.


How do you come by large winter players? I inherited mine from the previous homeowner, but you can find yours from your local plant store. Since I did not purchase these plants, I cannot tell you the exact varieties I have, but you could easily find similar ones. They are all quite common and seem fool-hardy.
I hardly ever pay tribute to my boxwoods. They form a short wall along my front porch and are often forgotten for their bland appearance. Like so many other important things in life, boring doesn’t mean un-useful or unlovely. I hardly notice them but my garden would be drab and flat without their prevailing presence throughout every season. I also don’t take pictures of them. Honestly, I didn’t make good use of them in my winter plans this year. If I had been smart, I would have planted a medium-sized contrasting annual in front of them. Here are a few pictures which give you a little glimpse of these garden staples.


Whatever kind of nandina I have, it’s a dwarf variety. In the summer months the leaves are a light green, tinged with red. In the winter, the nandina takes on a red hue with a hint of green underneath. I don’t do anything to care for these bushes.


This is for my dear husband who wants to tear out my random hedge of holly. The previous homeowners planted these shrubs to screen their satellite dish and vegetable garden. We tore out the satellite dish and don’t really care if people see our messy backyard. We have kids. They have toys.
Anyway, holly is beautiful and provides a dense and beautiful backdrop to both the winter and summer gardens. One day I hope to plant a cutting garden near it, giving an accent to that wall of green. I just noticed that our random wall of holly can be seen above behind our thuggish camelia and strait-laced boxwood.
