Six Reasons to Cherish Winter (And Dread Spring)

I'll admit it: I'm a contrarian. The older I get, the more I find beauty in the "plain" — grasses, twiggy shrubs — and the less I crave spring's Technicolor explosion. Here's why I'm in no rush for the season everyone else celebrates.

1. The Catalog Avalanche

Plant catalogs arrive by the truckload, each designed to make me feel inadequate about my garden and my life. I raise my own perennials now; the catalogs just become mushy recycling. The only thing I'm missing is an empty bin — though I suppose the postal service appreciates the business.

2. Cutting Down the Garden

March cleanup is emotionally fraught. Every stalk I cut holds a memory: the butterfly on the liatris in August, the bumblebee leapfrogging across blooms like ballroom dancers. How do I compost that? One year I left a liatris stalk standing until June. No regrets.

3. Winter Work Is Productive

I do my best reading and writing in winter — snug as an overwintering mourning cloak butterfly. Manuscripts get written, tea gets sipped, the cat actually snuggles. Everything is in its place. Winter brings me home.

4. Winter Gardens Reveal Truth

The absence of flowers reveals their essence. Without summer's cacophony, I see the garden's bones with X-ray clarity: what's working, what's not, where vertical accents are needed, what's died out. Designing within winter's limiting palette is more exciting than summer's chaos.

5. Winter Means No Rushing

Summer overwhelms me — not the work (I garden two days a year), but the sensory assault: color, flying things, shadows, petals against sky. I feel compelled to be outside daily, afraid I'll miss something, like checking Facebook hourly. Winter restores presence, centeredness, peace. Clarity is standing still.

6. Winter Provides Negative Space

Good design balances opposites. After summer's intensity, winter's monochromatic expanses — open sky, water, meadow — let the senses reset. It's a moment to gather thoughts, recharge, put down roots alongside the plants. I suspect I'll be a more balanced, tuned-in gardener for it.

Perhaps I'll be a better gardener because I've learned to live equally in all seasons' moments.