In the January garden I tend to look for, and to find, other ways of seeing the beauty. The utter stillness of the snow, the contrast of the green of the foliage against the white of the snow, the tubular touch of black, the dusky light – a scene only possible in winter. My garden is more peaceful in winter than at any other time of year. I enjoy my garden in winter in a different way than the other times of year. Not more or less, but different.