The problem with winter is it lasts too long. We don't mind the fact of winter, but a spate of several solid months filed with frozen ground and nothing to ponder but slumbering beds can make gardeners a little antsy. That's why Ken Twombly planted a garden scheduled to peak in the depths of winter at Twombly Nursery in Monroe, Connecticut.

Ken doesn't take full credit for the idea. The seed, so to speak, were planted over a dozen years ago, on a dismal February morning when ken and his wife Priscilla, suffering from cabin fever and lolling listlessly around the house, happened to spot a newspaper ad for a cheap flight to Britain. The epiphany came a week later, after their first brush with the winter garden at the Royal Botanic Garden in Edinburgh. Climatic differences and obvious discrepancies in scale between the Scottish botanical garden and their backyard made an exact replica impossible, but the idea stuck, Why couldn't the theory work in New England, where we sorely need a cure for our prolonged siege of abysmal weather? Ken's winter garden wasn't the first of its kind in the world, but he can be credited with spearheading the trend toward making winter bearable in this region.

What really hit Ken was the majesty of trees and shrubs in winter. When everything else slips into dullness, well chosen trees and shrubs step out. Stripped of their leaves, profiled against a blank canvas, woody plants offer a different sort of splendor in their off-season. A mature tree's naked beauty of flexed sinewy limbs can be magnificently striking silhouetted by a backdrop of snow. Play the scene right, design with the unsung season in mind, and your backyard can provide the perfect antidote to the midwinter blahs.

The fact that Ken Twombly sought solace in trees surprised no one, really. Truth is, trees are never far from ken's mind. He was an arborist in Vermont before he came to Connecticut mor than 30 years ago to buy 25 acres in Monroe. Twombly Nursery started as an outlet for Ken's insatiable hobby of propagating trees and shrubs, then grew into on of the regions' major sources of unique woody trees and shrubs. Eventually, perennials were added to the inventory-again, with an emphasis on rarities. If anyone would be prone to take a look at gardens from another angle, it would be Ken Twombly.

So Ken decided to join forces with the cold season, creating a garden that he calls his "silent salesman." Certain factors were in his favor-a blanket of snow, for example, accentuates the contours of a well shaped tree. And the supreme lack of distractions pushes anything with a strong form into the foreground. If you though your Japanese maple had a nice stature in summer, its posture takes on a whole new meaning in winter when there's little else to divert your attention.

Ask Ken about the secret ingredient, and he's likely to talk locatio, location, location. Unless you're extremely adept with snowshoes, a winter garden should be within easy view of your house. If it can stand within sight of a large panoramic living room or kitchen window, that's optimal;. Practically speaking, winter gardens farther afield or off the beaten (shoveled) path probably won't get the traffic they deserve.

Even more than with most gardens, good bones are essential. And by "bones," Ken's thinking along arboreal lines. He suggests a ling list of trees that feature pleasing silhouettes (see side-bar, "Tree Favorites"). Evergreens, of course, become absolutely riveting in winter. Ken is a strong proponent of mixing and matching, combining vignettes of anything with winter appeal. His unifying factor is the color yellow. Combine trees and shrubs of different forms and texture, but toss in some golden chamaecyparis (beware of varieties prone to sun scold) and the yellow-frosted dragon's eye pine (Pinus densiflora 'Oculis-draconis') to make the colors pop. The beauty of his formula is that you can personalize the configuration, inserting your own favorites. As with any garden design, less is more-and balance is everything. Weeping evergreens become particularly poignant in winter, but don't overdo the oddities.

Winter isn't altogether without bells and whistles. Plant witch hazel (especially 'Arnold Promise' with bright-yellow flowers or blood red 'Diane' \) and flowers can be part of the picture. The blossoms are not only intriguing but also intensely fragrant: witch hazel's aroma is stronger in the sharp winter air than a whole garden of daffodils when the garden is up and honking. Otherwise, flowers are scarce, but berries can be part of the cornucopia. Holies, especially the American holly and blue series of hollies (Ilex x meserveae) spend winter laden with berries as well as glossy leaves.

Which brings us to shrubs. Ken's configuration leans heavily on combinations, shrubs providing stout forms for trees to play against. Among the best evergreen shrubs for winter are the 'PJM' rhododendrons, with their smaller leaves (less apt to curl when temperatures plummet), and mountain laurels, especially the new compact kalmias now appearing on the market. Evergreen azaleas (Tom Bodnar of Twombly Nursery recommends 'Renee Michelle', 'Stewartstonian', and 'Hino Crimson' for red winter leaf color) are wonderful foils beneath stately trees. The long leathery leaves of leucothoe blush deep bronze in winter and stand out more distinctly than in any other season.

Shrubs can offer other points of interest. Several andromedas, including 'Brouwer's Beauty', 'Dorothy Wyckoff', and 'Valley Valentine', hold their flower panicles (any reminder of blossoms is precious in mid-winter) and are deer-resistant. Depending on the wind and weather, hydrangeas often hold the vestiges of their flouncy flower bracts. As their name implies, winterberries keep a tight hold on their brightly colored berries - 'Red Sprite' and 'Sparkleberry' are two of the best (both require the male pollinator 'Raritan Chief' to set fruit). And many viburnums tenaciously keep their berries throughout early winter.

When the snow cover is shallow, the flowers of heaths and heathers often hold firm and look fresh even when frozen, then rev up again not long after the holidays. The vestiges of other perennials can also add to the scene even if they're a mere skeleton of former life. It may not be prime time for sedums, rudbeckias, or coneflowers, but the browned remnants of their flowerheads remain bravely standing. The same is true for many flowering grasses, especially Japanese silver grass, miscanthus. So don't do a clean sweep when you tidy your garden in autumn-a few remaining sprigs can make all the difference in the dead of winter.

Ken offers a few precautions. Properly selected and pruned deciduous trees are less likely to suffer form snow-load; experts warn against trying to remove snow from bridle branches, so don't shake your deciduous trees. Avoid fast-growing trees such as willows, which are more prone to winter damage than their sturdier, slower-growing counterparts. Stay away from weak-crotched trees such as redbud and the Bradford pear (stronger alternatives are 'Artistocrat' and 'Cleveland Select'). As for evergreens, when snow is deep and heavy, it's generally sake to knock off some of the snow weight-but gently.

Ken uses boulders as a natural foil for his winter garden: their mammoth proportions are less likely to be buried by snowdrifts. Simple, weather-resistant statuary and accent ornaments make strong statements in winter, but terra-cotta doesn't fare well through freezing and thawing.

Ken's winter garden keeps him from going stir-crazy, and the backyard backdrop also forms a windbreak. What's more, it lures him outdoors. When the harbingers of spring arrive, he's ready. "It's really a four-season garden," ken says. "A well-designed winter garden looks great all year."

Tree Favorites
Ken Twombly recommends a number of trees with pleasing silhouettes that work well in winter (and summer) gardens. Among his favorites: crabapples, dogwoods, snowbell (styrax) larch, Japanese maples, weeping trees (such as weeping birch, Betula pendula 'Youngii', weeping cherry), and curly cultivars (the bizarrely twisted hazel, Harry Lauders' walking stick, Corylus avellana 'Contorta', comes to mind). Perks beyond simple architecture also become prominent during the stripped-down season. Winter is when intriguing bark that spent summer camouflaged behind leaves suddenly steps into the fore. Stewartias, paperbark maple (Acer griseum), river birch (Betula nigra, which is not trouble by the bronze birch borer), and Korean dogwood (Cornus kousa) all have beautiful bark that peels or is dappled in different colors. When it comes to exfoliating bark, maturity enhances the effect, so the winter garden takes awhile to gather momentum. Ken enjoys trees and shrubs with intriguing twig color, providing instant gratification. When cold weather hits, the new growth of the bloodtwig dogwood (Cornus sanguineum; ken especially recommends 'Winter Beauty') turns bright red, varying to orange-yellow. Similarly, the coral bark Japanese maple (Acer palmatum 'Sango kaku'), which seems to glow form a distance, takes on a whole new level of intrigue.