On a bright December afternoon, a young tree trunk can seem to be enjoying the only warm thing in the garden. The beds are flat, the hose is asleep, and the mulch is edged with frost, but the low sun lands on one side of the bark with surprising force. If there is snow on the ground, the light comes…
January makes tree bark readable. The leaves are gone, the herbaceous border has collapsed into stems and seed heads, and the garden has stopped distracting us with flowers. What remains is quieter but not empty: twigs, buds, bark plates, old pruning cuts, and pale islands of green, gray, yellow, and blue-green spreading across trunks like weather maps. Those patches are…
