Every winter, without really setting out to, I notice the same thing. The garden looks bigger. Not better in the usual sense, not more colourful or more impressive, but calmer, more open. The space feels less busy, and my gaze isn’t pulled in ten different directions.
Winter strips the garden back. Once the growth slows and the leaves fall, what you’re left with isn’t emptiness, but structure. Hedges, walls, trees, paths, levels, boundaries. The bones of the garden are suddenly visible, and when they’re clear, the space naturally feels more relaxed.
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