By Sue Healey 

It’s easy to love winter in January. When the year and the season are new, the cold is refreshing, the landscape new and exciting. Before the frigid bare days of February sink into our bones and the march of mundane March dulls our minds, winter is both beautiful and welcome. This year’s season has been surprisingly snowy. More like the winters the past, when snow cover was a given from December to March. Even the usual January thaw has not been enough to completely dissolve the snowbanks in the shadowy parts of the garden. The wind is again blowing snow to swell those remaining white dunes and cover the world. After that brief reminder of spring, I am glad of winter’s return. There are benefits to a cold, snowy winter – in sight and sound to us and to the health of our landscape. January is a wonderful month to explore the bounty of a Canadian winter and enjoy all that it has to offer.

Perhaps because I was not born to a frigid winter, I have always found it magical. My first keen memory of it was the glittering aftermath of an ice storm. The snowbanks crusted with ice, theirpebbled surface like stone where they’d been soft the day before, gleaming in the morning sun. My five-year-old self discovering that winter could change everything. It changed liquids to solids, rain to snow, the world from green to white. It stopped school. Surely a thing that could do all that was magical. And while I later learned the logical reasons behind a snowy winter, it no way diminished my wonder and awe of it. Many winters later I am still enchanted by a landscape transformed by snow; forests etched in white frosting, the diamond brilliance of water changed to ice, the satisfying crunch of it underfoot. I am still surprised by cold that catches my breath and freezes the hairs in my nose. And while there is less daylight in winter, I am far more aware (and likely to see) sunrise and sunset during these months, coming late and early before the clocks change again. With blazing mornings and pale, delicate evenings, they are a grand way to greet and end the day. 

But winter need not be as dramatic as a snow or ice storm to add beauty to the world. Frost on an old garage window has been a lovely greeting to many of my early morning commutes. Every instance of crystal formation is different, surprising, and ephemeral. Only rarely, when time and conditions for frost coincided, have I been able to catch those crystalized panes through my lens. Whether I capture the glory or not (mostly not) witnessing it is always a gift. There are different forms of frost, each one forming under different conditions and each worth the effort to view. Most of that effort involves early rising and decent outerwear. If you’re of a mind, catch a snowflake and look at it under magnification – a marvelous creation of mother nature. Wilson Alywn Bentley spent his life doing just that and photographed over 5,000 unique examples of snowflakes. His photographs are exhibited in museums throughout North America, serving as a powerful celebration of nature’s beauty.

There are other sights in winter that need nothing more than snow and wind. Together these two conditions can change a landscape by the hour. Drifts along the ridges of fields and roads form shifting artwork for travelers moving over them. Winter makes everything and nothing matter. All mistakes or tasks left undone are swamped in pearly froth and become just another drift to add to the undulating mounds of snow. The stems and branches that remain in the garden stand out more clearly against the white backdrop of snowbanks. The trees and bushesgather the snow around them and their skins, suddenly on display, shine bronze or black in the cold sunlight. Snow is an excellent insulator, protecting roots from freezing and consistent snow cover is ideal. I encourage drifting by leaving non diseased plant material to overwinter in the garden. Cut evergreens boughs spread around vulnerable plants such as roses and crocosmia provide extra insulation and places for snow to gather. A further benefit comes with the spring thaw when melting snow replenishes the water table while providing nitrogen, carbon dioxide, and trace minerals to the soil.

Perhaps best of all, winter is a time of rest, for the garden and gardener alike. I relish the time of inactivity, of nestling in and cozying up. The long winter evenings invite us to take a seat after supper, sit with a book or project, or maybe a cat and a nap. Winter gives us the moments to restore the reserves of strength (both physical and mental) that the year’s activities have sapped. In those moments of quiet rest, winter gives us a spectacle to behold.

When the time for nestling in is done, your local Horticultural Society is there to help fill the time. Regular meetings are back in full swing with an exciting roster for 2026 scheduled. Members are ready to put hands to earth beginning in February with the annual Seed Exchange, happening an hour before the general meeting. Our guest speaker is David Gascoigne with “Urban Birds” as his topic.

Come as a guest, stay as a member.

February 3, 2026, 7:30pm

Tillsonburg Senior’s Centre

Membership: $25/year $5/meeting 

Seed Exchange 6:30pm – 7:30pm

Sue Healey, Tillsonburg Horticultural Society

“The Lasting Impact of Garden Gifts”

At the end of the year, when the shadows and snowdrifts gather to cover the garden, I spend the long evenings sorting through the photographs I’ve taken over the year. Most are of the gardens that surround my home. This sifting of images fills the time that would be spent outside given better weather and light. As I flick through them, I see that many of the trees and plants that catch my eye and camera, the ones I admire most, have been gifts to me. They have come as tokens of celebration, markers of days gone by or as rescues from gardens lost or in transit. And sometimes, they have come simply as a way to share a bit beauty. Each plant is cherished and sparks a memory of the giver, a gentle nudge to remember. Their presence enriches both the soil and the spirit, creating a garden that is not only visually appealing but deeply meaningful. This blend of individual contributions ensures the garden remains a place of beauty, remembrance, and ongoing growth.

This year, my lens has been caught by a poppy that has roamed my garden for as long as I’ve tilled its soil. Collected as seed long ago in my parents’ meadow garden, it reminds me of them both, my mother’s flamboyant energy, my father’s quiet grace. Papaver rhoeas, commonly referred to as the field poppy due to its liking of disturbed ground, is an easy to grow annual with many variations. Mine is fully double, although highly variable from year to year in petal count and colour and always a showstopper. Swan necked stems over silvery green, jagged leaves appear in early spring, each topped with shapely buds that split in spectacular fashion: a multitude of frilled, silken petals, in shades from deep crimson to pale pink unfurl over the season. Blossoms last only day or two, but even that loss is dramatic; like a feather boa, shrugged off the shoulders of an 80s era soap-opera star. Blooming continues through most of summer and provides striking contrast to green, silver, or white backgrounds.Plump seed heads dry to papery husks that spill their miniscule contents at the slightest touch and set next year’s crop. They persist through the winter days, providing a perch for frost or snow, or tiny bird.

In the far corner of the garden, grows another gift that I treasure. This one, a Geum, is a low growing member of the rose family. It came to me decades ago and has been an all-season favourite from the beginning. Early blooming, and in my favourite colour, Geum is a perennial to bridge the gap between spring bulbs and the bounty of June. The rich orange blossoms open over a series of days, and as they age, fade to pale apricot. New and old blooms are present together, resulting in a two-tone effect that softens the brazen orange. Seed heads are hairy and round, darkening to black as they dry before shattering in the wind. The pleated leaves are semi-evergreen and provide an unusual texture to the front of the early winter border. Geum comes in various warm shades of red, orange, cream and yellow and prefers full sun with well drained but moist soil. 

Almost as early as the Geums and as varied in tone as the poppies, are the perennial geraniums that reside in the garden. Of the dozens of varieties available, I grow only a few and most of those from a last-minute rescue for my mother-in-law. They are as cool and steadfast as the woman herself. Each surviving plant is a luminescent shade of violet, some sky blue, others with a touch of pink. Unfazed by drought or pest, this unassuming perennial is a hardworking addition to most gardens. Blooming from early summer to frost, with leaves that often display rich autumn colour, they are also easy to care for. A place in full to partial sun, a spring sheering and topping of compost will ensure this perennial thrives. Mound forming, with lobed leaves that can also vary in size and cut perennial geraniums are excellent at the front of the border. Five petaled flowers range in colours from blue to white and pink with blue flowered varieties showing the most range. Each one is a worthy addition to the garden.

There are other gifts too, the yellow garden is filled with largessof friends and family. Primrose and false fuchsia, yarrow, and calendula line the border along the fence. Roses fill the garden with perfume and the memory of family scattered across the nation. The faded petals of a daylily under the lime green leaves of sumac bring memories of winter days bent over velvet and corduroy. Every gifted plant holds a special significance, weaving together memories of the giver and moments in time. 

As the seasons change, these treasures offer colour, texture, and life to the landscape, enriching both the visual appeal and emotional depth of the garden and making each day spent among them more meaningful and rewarding.

Garden gifts come in many forms, and The Tillsonburg Horticultural Society has several to offer. Member’s enjoyed the annual Christmas Potluck in early December and look forward to a year filled with the latest information, exciting trips and tours and the joy of society. Regular meetings will resume on January 7, 2026, with Mike Prong and his presentation “Perennial Power ~ 20 plants that keep you coming back.” January 6, 2026, 7:30pm, Tillsonburg Senior’s Centre

Membership: $25/year $5/meeting. 

The Society wishes you safe and healthy holiday season and a peaceful new year.

📷 Sue