Looking over the thick blanket of fluffy snow in the yard stirs a satisfying sigh. The destruction wrought to perennials and bushes by last year's barren frigidity has been averted, thanks to this wintry mulch. Much damage occurs from heaving ground tearing up roots, exposing them to dehydration and death. Naturally occurring mulches, like last year's leaves, broken branches, snow and plant debris, are a great asset to survival. A common misconception is that a good winter mulch is one that provides warmth (a misperception accentuated by the term "blanket"). But mulch (and snow counts!) is best applied after the ground freezes. Its most important purpose is stability, a layer of insulation to keep the cold, frozen earth cold and frozen. Like potholes in the roads, or ceramics left out all winter, too many cycles of freeze, wet and thaw break plants apart. Just tell your nosy neighbors you're mimicking nature, not lazy, when you don't clean up your garden spic and span! Wait til spring, til the complete thaw, to pull away the leaves, uncovering three-inch sprouts of daffodils and tulips. Wait til the scilla bloom, and the old leaves will protect your buds from the last freak snow in early May. (Beds that don't contain any perennials or bulbs can be cleaned up early to warm up with the sun, making them ready for planting.)

As you look upon the snow, either from a safely snug window or out knee-deep in the yard, take a thorough inventory of the land you caretake. The tranquility of dormancy is a great time to reflect on the past and look toward the future. The lack of leaves reveals the structure of your trees and bushes. Check for tree branches that need pruning: are any rubbing uncomfortably, overcrowding, dangerously overhanging a house or mingling with utility wires? Look carefully and take notes for next month's pruning adventures. Trees need good air circulation in their canopy for health. And how are your shrubs? If they became thin, with uneven leafing from last winter's damage, you might consider a hard pruning. A bit of sacrifice now for a revived, lush shrub next year is often better than keeping a gangly, uncomfortable bush.

This is also a great time to consider elements of winter interest. Do you have bittersweet vines of orange and saffron in a tangled burst in the corner near a trellis of twisted rose brambles with dangling hips for the birds? Or tufts of grass six feet in the air capped rakishly with snow? Echinacea standing dark and tall, mullein stocks like sentinels, providing a resting place for chickadees scouring for seed? Rowans and sea buckthorn with bundles of bright red berries or thickets of willow with golden stems? Dormant need not be dreary. Look carefully now to plan additions for next season. A weeping cypress pruned to hold berets of snow or a witch hazel for February blooms, placed where you can see it from a comfortable indoor vantage, can turn bland into exotic.

Winter is often a forgotten element in gardens. We put all our energy into beds of annuals, rows of edibles, the classic perennial borders and hanging baskets of tender tropicals, carefully planning color and bloom from April to October, only to neglect the garden for the remaining months of the year. Research during winter can also include seeking out protected pockets to sneak in a plant from a zone less hardy. Watch the snow drifting to learn the direction of predominant, destructive winds, to see where to avoid placing delicate plants, or where you might want to develop a windbreak of arbor vitae, holly or a stone wall. What is behind the snowdrift? Do you have a small dell of calm and quiet? Check in the spring for drainage in that spot. If it's too wet and too low it will be risky for fragile plants, but such situations often can be successfully amended with some sand. Good drainage, wind protection and good sun are all factors to building your personal microclimate. Siting these spots opens up your gardening to possibilities others may not dare. Unless you're a great risk taker, it might be a good idea to start small with inexpensive bulbs or perennials. If they seem comfortable after a couple of years, a specimen bush or tree might be calling you. Most of us live in Zone 5. If you nudge up a sheltered spot to Zone 6, you can attempt a fig tree! The beginning of your personal Garden of Eden.

If developing a microclimate is too much work for you, take heart in our freezing, snowing winters. Many plants require a certain length of dormancy before blooming. Tulips, daffodils, peonies, delphiniums, valerian and angelica all need down-time for germination and flowering. Many fruit trees need rest. Many vines and grasses become highly invasive if not kept in check by a good freeze. Just think, we don't have a kudzu problem! The benefits of winter are difficult for some to remember whilst in the depths of it, but once the spring bursts with multitudes of daffodils, meadows of scilla and those banks of peonies, cold, wet toes are paid back amply. The experience of watching maples and willows bud up with tentative yellow flowers and then, one unexpectedly mild night, explode in leaf, is a true New England glory.

Miss Mara Vaughn would like to talk with you about your gardening questions. Write to her at This email address is being protected from spam bots, you need Javascript enabled to view it