The Michigan skies go dark during our winter months. We have few sunny days; the winter solstice date, this year December 21st, is the shortest day of the entire year. The dark comes at 4pm, and is still around at 7am. The cold and the snow don’t bother me nearly as much as those gloomy skies. Should you not light your landscape, their will be precious little to see. Formally lighting the landscape is a topic all its own. I am interested today in how people garden with light. These scotch pine on standard in Belgian oak barrels outside my office window-a strong defense against the dark.
Those clear white lights available everywhere seem to ask for some dressing up; the big bulbs are a refreshing change. The mix of big and little bulb strands, attached to each other with little snippets of yellow raffia, engage my attention like a good tune. These light garlands gracefully swagged through the branches of my big lindens are a cheery contrast to the winter blues.
My native winter landscape is notable for its cold, its interminable length, and its relentless snow. The light garland over my door is a combination of white, amber, and yellow lights; the centerpieces in the pots wound round with gold frosted lights. The pots are stuffed with giant nests of raw hemp fiber. The effect is warm and cozy. I am all for turning the lights on.
Light strings need not be confined to rooflines and Christmas trees. Urethane topiary forms densely wound with light strings cast their warm light in every direction. The biggest requirement for this project-the patience to wind and pin the wires with fern pins. A landscape focal point comes to life in a very different way, thus lighted.
These wood boxes have what we call light bars as centerpieces. Galvanized pipe from the hardware store is wound with lights; the bottom foot of the bare pipe is sunk into the soil. The curly willow branches add a natural element that looks good during the day. The light bars help keep the willow visible during the extended dark hours. Large bulb chartreuse light strings were part of the Martha Stewart holiday lighting collection for KMart some years ago; how I like the big soft glow they add to the greens and snow. I have no idea to quit gardening when the ground freezes-I just garden in a different way.
Rob invented these light bars. Wrapped closely around a galvanized pipe, and installed in the ground over steel rebar sunk in the ground, they shed light in every direction. They are beautifully sculptural in a contemporary setting. 
Many many light strings were needed to describe the shape of this old oak in lights. The structure of this tree is never more apparent than it is this time of year.
I photographed the front of the shop this year at dawn’s light. The snow and the ice greatly magnify the twinkle of the twinkle lights on these skyrocket junipers. A wire tree basket serves as a form creating the overall shape of this fantail willow and dogwood. The white pine at the base droops gracefully in the opposite direction. I like having something in the winter landscape that gives me as much pleasure as my summer garden.
The big idea here has everything to do with personal and individual expression. The materials are readily available, the risk of doing too much is slight. The effect is immediate and gratifying. Whether you run your seasonal lighting only through the end of the year, or on into March, lighting the winter garden like this is temporary-no big long term committment required. I know I am not the only person who drives the neighborhoods during the winter holiday to see what others have done to light the night; this might be the best part of December in Michigan.
Years ago Jonathon asked me to dream up a phrase that would describe my shop. As we are in a tiny industrial district way off the beaten path, I thought “dirty little secret” would both reference the foundation upon which all I do becomes possible-and furthermore would encourage people whose curiousity was sufficiently piqued, to seek me out. I try my best to have my three quarters of an acre ready for company every day. This wreath, a warm, plain, and beautiful Douglas Fir wrap around a cast limestone dog, is displayed in the front of the house. The back of my house, stuffed with holiday materials scattered all over the place, is another story. I know this is my second post about wreaths in a week, but these modest circles of green can so enliven your winter landscape-so bear with me. No need to confine your wreathing to your front door either-a sculpture, a pot, a gate can be dressed in a wreath. 
I am persisting with this discussion, as I think these modest circles based on green can endow a winter landscape with an impact vastly beyond their small size. They are a distinctly personal expression. My workroom is entirely given over at this moment to taking those green circles a few personal steps further-special orders. There are so many materials-both natural and not, that can be arranged, wired or glued on the surface. I have made a lot of them over the years; they are miniature gardens that go together fast. Rob meets with his clients; pictures of possible combinations follow via email. Helping people put things together that they like individually is a big part of the job. 
The workroom, my dirty little secret , is home to the tools, the good light, and the space necessary to make things. My only wish for my life-to be able to make, and go on making. Landscapes, gardens, topiary sculptures, flower arrangements, paintings, essays-specific to a person, a time, and a place. Everything I make inplies the person out there. These landscapes do not take weeks, or years to put in place. Even a complicated arrangement rarely takes longer than an hour. The trick is having all the materials and tools at hand, and ready. The rest-trying out whatever strikes your fancy.
My workroom is not particularly fancy. A 4′ by 8′ painted plywood layout table holds all manner of materials and tools at a height that makes the work easy. Underneath the top is space for plans, rolled up and labelled with a client’s name, and date-some of which date back 20 years. Lots of flourescent lighting banishes shadows, and makes it easy for me to see the details. Every surface is put to use; if something is put away, I forget I have it available. I collect bits of this and that all year long, for the wreaths. 
Shelves loaded with containers organize like materials-I need this level of organization, given that I am in progress with multiple projects. I hate searching for the ribbon scissors, so it has a home. Things have gotten a little out of control, but I resist the impulse to clean. I am so lucky to have a big space that needs no daily cleanup. At the end of the day, I just go home-the litter can wait until I have time to clean it up. This is MCat’s favorite time of year-so many things that have fallen to the floor to play with. Some days he finds a spot on the table to snooze.
I like loading the layout table with materials that speak to each other. I move things around, I add and subtract until I get a mix that seems to work. This can take a lot of time. Once I come to some conclusion, the construction phase kicks in. My industrial grade glue gun-an invaluable tool. I cannot stitch, sew, or cook, but I can glue. I also take things apart before I use them. One half a seed pod might work better than a whole one. Garlands and picks cvan be unwired, and their elements used individually. 
The dried grasses, the oregonia, the bahia pods, the magnolia stems, acorns, the bark wire-all of these materials seem just right for clients for whom I mail out a slew holiday wreaths the Monday after Thanksgiving. They love all manner of natural materials-they trust my mix, different every year. I photograph them, so they know what gets sent.
We spent over a week tearing apart a thirty year old landscape for this client. They had decided that though their kids were grown and gone, they would stay, and renovate both the inside and out of their family home. They had not ever spent much time outdoors; a very small back yard with no privacy from neighboring terrraces and play structures kept them indoors. New screening, and an enlarged gravel addition to their terrace opened the door to a new living space for them. The finishing touch-a collection of Italian style, English made concrete planters.
Their children are all coming home for Thanksgiving; they asked if I could dress the pots in their winter coats in time. They are very excited at the prospect of their kids seeing how their home has been transformed in the past 3 months, and the landscape is part of that. Four of the five pots on the rear terrace would be planted for winter. As they have little in the way of outdoor lighting in the back, we installed lights in every pot. The electrician just installed outdoor plugs for them yesterday, in time for the holiday gathering. 
Preserved and dyed eucalyptus provdes a leafy texture much like the magnolia. The chocolate brown color is surprisingly lightfast outdoors. The container looks dreesed for the weather; the colors perfect for the Thanksgiving holiday will go on looking good as winter settles in. 
The pots are positioned to provide good views of the outdoors from the inside. I will move pots from a summer location to a winter one, if need be. I spend a lot more time looking at my garden in the winter from indoors; I am outdoors as much as possible in the summer. These pots can help alleviate that cooped up feeling invariably creeps up on any northern gardener. 
After the rear terrace pots were installed, they called-could I please do three more. Though they plan to replace these front door pots in the spring, they are not the center of attention here. Red bud pussy willow and dark purple eucalyptus make a formal and quietly beautiful statement at the door. My landscape crews construct and install all of this work; they do such a beautiful job. Clients who have winter pots done for the first time are surprised at what a difference they make. I hear about how nice it feels to have something beautiful to look at outdoors at this time.
The side door has the same pot as the front, but a different treatment. As variety is a very precious commodity this time of year, I avoid repeating the same materials everywhere. These snow branches are all plastic; they look just as good up close, as they do in this picture. I try to include a third, mid-level element in all the winter pots; just sticks and greens is a little too spare for my taste. 
The grocery store is a great source for natural materials; you can find cinnamon sticks this time of year in the spice department. Nuts and dried fruits, sprigs of fresh rosemary-all these things look great. Artichokes and pomogranites are easy to wire and attach fresh, and dry just fine. I avoid piercing any fresh material if I can; there is no need to invite rot. Forest floor litter can be a good source of materials as well-bracket fungus, cones, moss bits and twigs-all these things endow a wreath with a garden feeling. 
Some faux material is too awkward to wire. In the case of this nest, and the bark birds, I pierce the back of the object, and glue in a florist’s skewer; kitchen skewers would work just as well. Transparent materials, such as these skeletal leaves, gain visual weight when used in numbers. I can wedge the skewer into the woody branches of the evergreens. I try not to push the skewer in too far; avoid making your birds look pasted on the greens. Transparent materials, such as these skeletel leaves, gain visual weight when used in numbers; these are wired and glued on a short skewer. Loose and airy looks good.
Any faux berry stem needs to be tested for water resistance before it is used. I learned this the hard way; five window boxes full of white styrofoam berries, gel coated in a clear red acetate, dissolved all over the greens and pavement in front of the store of one of my commercial clients. What a mess. A short piece of dried kiwi vine chosen for its curl as a loose element to the mix. 
Ornaments made from natural materials are readily available. As with any ornament or stem, I deconstruct some things so the proportions are good with the size of the wreath. Sometimes I only need a wedge cut from a ball, or a portion of a stem. A wreath is a little world that needs to be built accordingly.
When the front door is a long way from the street, a shot of bright red makes a cheery statement from a distance. Raffia bows have great texture and resilience to the weather. The worst enemy of any wreath is not snow-it is rain. A wreath subjected to a lot of rain can have a good bit of its original shape restored. Take the wreath to a dry place, and dry up side down, and face down; gravity will do wonders.