Red leaves provide a stark contrast to winter’s dull backdrop. Rachel Lovejoy photo

Here we are once again in the grip of winter, and at first glance, the natural world around us can seem pretty bleak and uninteresting. The landscape has been drained of color, its canvas wiped clean as though nature were unhappy with its first attempt and is pondering another approach, another viewpoint. And that’s exactly what we get when it gets too cold to paint, when the palette’s been put away for another year until conditions are right again for full expression.

But is it all really that bleak and uninspiring? Or can we, with a bit of effort, tease out those selling points that seem to fade into the background and become more subtle in their frigidity? For the cold does stop everything in its tracks, forces things back into the ground in search of warmth and rejuvenation; and the diminished light compels all the green things to undergo a change that will preserve them for another season or create space for something new and just as, or even more, exciting than what came before it.

No, the canvas has not been wiped entirely clean. For there is a myriad of details and attributes that even the cold cannot daunt and that finally get the chance to be seen and appreciated if we take the time to look, really look, at winter’s aesthetic offerings. Stripped of the fullness of the foliage, the lush density of ground covers, and the riot of color that is the hallmark of flower gardens, the winter earth shows us different things, traits that are able to stand out and get their due at no other time of year.

For starters, a tree’s basic structure, freed of its summer mantle of green, is readily visible, each branch assuming an identity separate from its mates yet exhibiting the traits that binds it to the others and to the tree’s trunk itself. There’s a reason that pines, spruces and hemlocks are considered holiday greenery. It is their time of year, their time to shine, the only time they can stand out when no other vegetation competes with their grandeur. Thus it is with good reason that we make use of their boughs in wreaths, centerpieces, and as the focal point of our end-of-year winter celebrations.

Any tree’s less obvious characteristics are also more visible in winter. When there isn’t much else to look at in a woodsy landscape, the intricacy and character of its bark stands out, and it is then that we see more clearly how trees are identified by their shells, from the smooth shiny gray of beech trees to the rough furrowed outer skin of oaks. Coming upon a tree trunk sporting large clean round or rectangular holes means that woodpeckers have been hard at work looking for something to eat or carving out shelters that will also be used for breeding purposes.

The cold hard ground is also interesting in winter, particularly during snow-less periods or in years that see little of the white stuff. The remains of the perennial weeds, interspersed with olive-colored blades of grass, form a dense frigid mat that seems unlikely to ever spring to life again. Upon close inspection, we find each tiny plant shriveled and looking quite lifeless, when actually, it’s just waiting for the right moment and conditions to spring back to life.

In areas that get lots of sunlight even in winter, it’s not unusual to see a perennial pop up prematurely, only to die down again once it snows or temperatures drop well below freezing. Just last week, during a short mild spell, I noticed shoots of some type of plant standing tall. I also was surprised to find that another type of plant had emerged beneath a weed barrier mat. Lacking the space to grow or the sunlight to help it along, it just lay flat against the ground, its bleached yellow fronds curled in around themselves as if to say “We’ll just lie here and wait.”

Certain fall foliage is still with us as well, providing a much-needed burst of rusty red, orange , or pale yellow on the dullest days. This is usually seen on low-lying shrubs that grow along roadsides, ditches, and the edges of woods, and like the evergreens, make the most of their time to be noticed.

And of course, as much as some folks dislike the concept, this is Maine, and Nature uses its selective hearing against our grumblings. That said, the much-lamented snow itself provides lots of optical pleasure for those who look for such things, not the least of which is the sight of the sun casting its rays across a snow-covered field, settings its billions of tiny gems to twinkling. When the light hits dense wet snow, it’s not unusual to see various shades of blue reflected in its crevices and shadows.

It may look like nothing much is going on right now, but that’s not the case at all, and we should not be fooled by winter’s quiet days when all there is to look at out there is a study in grays and browns. During winter’s long sleep, the earth is merely lying in wait as its batteries recharge in anticipation of spring, and the roots of plants shore up the energy that will propel them upward and out through the soil. And here we are, once again, looking forward eagerly to that very time!