Almost everything relating to our garden has value in the winter view. As shade is reduced from deciduous trees, light reaches deeper into the garden structure, revealing textures of hill and valley alike which are muted and dusky in summer months. Small details are crisper, as light illuminates from a lower angle. For similar reasons, the sky also feels closer and especially brilliant in hue when juxtaposed with a snow-blanketed garden.

In winter, there are more incremental variations from moisture and temperature with which our garden interacts. Consider the varying moisture levels affecting the color and feel of natural stone. On sunny dry days, a nobedan walk evokes bare-footed warmth as my eyes wander outside. On other days, the dark moist boulders wear a cap of white or become part of a larger drift of snow, combining with the okarikomi-shaped azaleas behind them, reminiscent of drifting dunes but imbued with the form our garden has developed from our years of nurture.

At times these atmospheric effects emphasize fine detail, such as when twigs and buds of our Japanese maple trees are delicately outlined with a light snow. If I have finished grooming our Black Pines, each needle is a fine green line, topped with icy crystals on a background of cerulean or white. On wet days, a tree’s bark is darkened, each year showing more layers and intricacy. At times, ice forms on each twig, exposing the beauty and strength of the entire sculpture. At least until extreme cold forces a deeper dormancy, lawns are a brilliant green carpet. Likes waves advancing and retreating, the garden is sometimes more exposed, and then buried gently or deeply by snow; observing this, I learns about the “ma” being developed – that interval between objects in which I see and experience the garden. Perhaps all is well, or maybe next year, I will want to exclude a few items to clarify and expand the space where I find peace.

James Hanselman is owner of Hanselman Landscape & Gardens in Manheim, Pennsylvania