Jane Shankster 1/31/25 Jane Shankster 1/31/25

Winter flowering plants

Cyclamen hedifolium

I’ve long been an advocate of the view that a garden is more spectacular if it enjoys peaks and quiet times - masses of height, structure and colour in high summer with a quiet, muted stillness in winter. So much more in step with nature, a reflection rather than a counterpoint.

However, even I am not completely immune to the charms of winter flowering plants. If I had the space I’d probably plant a winter border, full of dogwoods, Japanese maples, frost coloured brambles and witch hazels, to be viewed across a broad lawn from the warmth of a large orangery. But that’s in another life.

In a more modest garden I’d be content with one or two winter jewels, flowers to be viewed and indeed smelled close up. Many winter flowering plants are subtle in colour, small and highly scented.

Winter is a curious time in the garden. Beneath layers of dead leaves and collapsed foliage the garden just gets on without you. And by garden, I mean that in the widest sense, not just the cultivated plants, but birds, insects, small mammals (larger ones too if you have foxes), fungi, microbes, bacteria and water.

To the casual observer the garden is static in winter. The garden’s soil is a hive of microbial activity, even in cold weather. Beneficial bacteria and fungi continue breaking down organic matter, enriching the soil with nutrients essential for plant growth. Worms and other decomposers thrive under the surface, aerating and improving the soil structure. Winter is also a critical time for wildlife. Birds forage for food, insects seek shelter in plant debris, and hedgehogs hibernate. Leaving areas of the garden slightly untidy – with piles of leaves or hollow stems – provides essential habitats for these creatures.

Tempting though it might be to rush outside on a mild day, secateurs and pruning saw in hand, it’s mostly best to do nothing. And especially do nothing to evergreen plants. A frost just after you’ve pruned something can be highly damaging to most plants

The first winter-flowering plants that come to mind are the small, ground-hugging perennials that you have to seek out and really get close to. Snowdrops are an obvious choice and I wrote about them here last year. Like snowdrops, pink and white Cyclamen hederifolium and bright yellow Eranthis hyemalis, or winter aconites, look more impressive planted in numbers. They both take a while to establish but will self seed if left undisturbed so this makes them ideal for planting under deciduous trees.

Helleborus x hybridus (also known as Lenten roses, though they are rarely in flower at Easter) hybridise easily, making them popular with collectors. The colours vary from white and pink, yellow, to a steely blue, almost black and many spotted colourations. I usually cut back the old leaves in winter so that the flowers are easier to see. They are pretty unfussy about growing conditions.

After more than two decades of “prairie” planting, shrubs are enjoying a revival. Valued for their height and structure many shrubs need little maintenance, especially if planted in the right place. They’re also great hideouts for small birds. Most Viburnums are winter-flowering but not all are highly scented. V. bodnantense Charles Lamont has clusters of small pink flowers on bare stems from November to March. Reaching in excess of 2m in height, their foliage also has good autumn colour.

Winter-flowering honeysuckle, Lonicera x purpusii Winter Beauty, is a shrub rather than the usual sprawling climber. It too, bears flowers on bare stems, doing better in a sunny spot rather than partial shade. The nectar is a particular favourite of bumblebees.

The common name of Chimonanthus is wintersweet, reflecting its strong scent. The bright yellow flowers are small, but en masse, they can light up part of the garden on a dull winter’s day. It will enjoy a sunny spot and as the summer foliage is not particularly striking make sure it’s planted with something more interesting.

Daphnes have the reputation for being difficult to grow. In my experience they are just very slow growing and patience is required for the plants to get a good size. These evergreens do have the most amazing scent though and the wait is worth it. Plant in well drained soil in dappled shade, they are not fond of heavy clay.

I’m never really sure if I’m a fan of Mahonia or not. The flowers and scent are quite spectacular in winter but the dull, prickly leaves are less attractive in summer. M. x media Charity can be a bit of a bully, reaching up to 4m in height. It needs regular pruning to keep it compact but this can affect flowering. A new cultivar, M. eurybracteata subsp. ganpinensis 'Soft Caress', is more compact and the leaves are not at all spikey. I’ve planted a few recently but I’ve not seen any mature specimens yet.

When it comes to winter-flowering trees Witch Hazels reign supreme. Like Daphnes, they are extremely slow-growing and in most gardens are more like shrubs than trees. However, they don’t respond that well to pruning so make sure it is planted where it can grow to maturity. The flowers look like strands of saffron and, depending on the variety, range in colour from bright yellow to orange and a deep rusty red. In London one of the best places to see them is the Isabella Plantation in Richmond Park.

In my own garden I have snowdrops, Hellebores and some Cyclamen. If I had more space I’d definitely plant a wider range. They do get you out into the garden rather than just looking at it from the kitchen, or orangery, window.

Places to see winter flowering plants:

Jane Shankster 12/1/23 Jane Shankster 12/1/23

2023, a year in photos

I googled “what will 2023 be famous for?” There were some forecasts - war, climate catastrophe, financial turbulence and technological change - so far, so predictable. But a fashion trend for blackened teeth thankfully hasn’t come to pass (or did I miss it?).

The year started with a famously cold January. It was a near record of eight days in a row of freezing temperatures. Whilst Wimbledon Common looked fab in the heavy frost the weather took its toll in the garden. Many people lost plants, in particular Hebes, Erigeron karvinskianus and Penstemons. They were hard to replace initially as the frost had affected so many gardens as well as suppliers in the UK and Europe.

One answer to this is to plant a winter garden, full of plants that look their best at this time of year. I went to visit Wakehurst Place which has a fairly new winter garden. It didn’t disappoint and partly as a response to this we have developed a couple of winter borders in my local park.

Magnificent magnolia in Bushy Park in March

A persistent easterly wind in March and April meant that spring felt like a long time coming but finally, after a few false starts, I got on a plane for the first time in three years to go to the garden island of Madeira.

There were gardens aplenty on the island but one of the most fascinating sights was the ancient laurel forest on the north slope. Subject to frequent fog and mist the trees were already mature when the Spanish arrived in the 14th century. It is an eerie place and, as I found, it’s very easy to get lost.

May was a busy month. The weather warmed up a little and I found a great new bluebell wood in the Surrey Hills. The sun also came out for the Chelsea Flower Show and there was only one garden everyone was talking about - Sarah Price’s iris garden. It wasn’t overrated, almost worth the ticket price on its own.

Also in May I finished planting a new garden in Wimbledon. Throughout the year I have continued as a volunteer gardener in my local park. Luckily the summer wasn’t quite as scorching as 2022. The ox-eye daisies in a wildflower part of the park were stunning in June.

All through 2023 I have been learning how to use a 3D design software package. It has been challenging to say the least but considerable progress has been made. I’m not sure I’ll ever reach guru status, but it’s good to get to a stage where clients can see their prospective gardens in 3D and even walk through them. I haven’t had a client yet say they prefer the old hand-drawn way of doing things.

In July I caught up with a friend who I’d helped with the layout of her garden ahead of the installation of a new greenhouse.

In August there was an overload of garden visits to Ham House, Waterperry Gardens and the best garden I’ve seen in a long time, Le Jardin Plume.

Whilst in France I also visited the garden festival at Chaumont and the formal gardens at Chenonceau.

Autumn took a long time to arrive, an unexpected heatwave followed by what seemed like endless rain, and then finally, some spectacular colour. Piet Oudolf describes a fifth season, somewhere between summer and autumn. The garden at the Hepworth Wakefield is a great example of how good a garden can look at this inbetween time.

Allium sphareocephalon and Perovskia in October

And my photographic year ends there, somewhat abruptly. The big camera is out of action and the camera on my phone doesn’t really cut it as a replacement. Normal service will be resumed shortly, hopefully in time for some winter photography.

Jane Shankster 2/5/23 Jane Shankster 2/5/23

Wimbledon Common in winter

It’s been a cracking winter in London, if you enjoy landscape photography. The prolonged period of frost in December, followed by the snow, produced some lovely conditions for photography. And another period of frost in January was a bonus. If this sounds like a wierd thing to celebrate, especially as every sub-zero day adds considerably to your energy bill, last winter there were no frosts at all. A whole winter of grey, wet dreariness…

“Good” wintry conditions are obviously frost and snow, ideally coupled with fog or bright, low sun. Its amazing how different the same scene can look in different conditions.