I'll be honest, I love winter pottering. There is something wonderfully satisfying about pulling on far too many layers, wrestling myself into thermals like an enthusiastic Michelin man, and heading outside with rosy cheeks and a cuppa in hand. Some people think gardeners disappear until spring, but I am happiest crunching across a frosty lawn and puffing little clouds into the air like a contented dragon.
Maybe it is because the cold makes everything feel so fresh and alive. And there is a secret delight in it too. When you have been outside with numb fingers and a red nose, coming back indoors feels absolutely glorious. A roaring fire, a hot bath, a mug of tea big enough to warm both hands… winter gardening makes all those cosy moments even better. You earn them. You savour them. It becomes part of the rhythm of the season.
The Mental Health Benefits of Winter Gardening
But beyond the thermals, the frosty toes and the reward of warm slippers at the end, winter gardening means something far deeper to me. It is a gentle antidote to the darker months and a way to keep my spirits lifted when the days get shorter and life feels a little heavier.
There is a softness to the garden in winter. The air sharpens, the colours quieten, and everything seems to rest and breathe and sometimes that's a reminder from nature that we need that too. It can be tempting to stay indoors and wait for spring, but I find this season is when the garden matters most. It still holds life, hope and calm. It still reminds me that change is always happening, even when we cannot see it yet.
What to Plant in Winter: Garlic, Broad Beans and More
There is something deeply comforting growing in winter. Planting garlic and broad beans in the cool earth recently gave me that quiet little thrill only gardeners understand. A tiny act of hope tucked under the soil, something to keep checking in on, a purpose. They do not look like much now, but soon enough those first green shoots will push through, strong and determined. A reminder that growth continues, even in stillness, and that sometimes patience is its own kind of joy.
Not everyone has beds to plant into of course. A pot of herbs or a little tray of salad leaves on a windowsill can offer the same sense of continuity. Even a small bit of green can lift a winter morning.
How Soil Boosts Mood and Well-Being
Scientists have found something gardeners have always suspected. Soil really can make you happier. A natural soil bacterium called Mycobacterium vaccae has been shown to help stimulate the brain chemicals linked to feeling calm and positive. Who knew getting your hands dirty could literally brighten your mood?
But even without the science, you can feel it. There is something grounding about crumbling soil between your fingers, tucking bulbs into place and brushing earth from your hands afterwards. It steadies you. It slows you down. It softens the noise of everyday life.
Winter light is precious. Even a short time outside gives us natural daylight our bodies crave when the days are darker. And that cold air on your face does wonders. It wakes something inside you and sweeps out the cobwebs not to mention a good dose of Vitamin D.
Sometimes I go outside without a plan at all. I wrap my hands around a warm mug of tea, breathe in the crisp air and just sit quietly for a few minutes. I watch birds flit about the bare branches and notice tiny buds already forming, preparing for the seasons ahead. Nature does not rush, and winter reminds us we do not always have to either, I can immerse myself in nothing but my garden all to do lists disappear and it’s just me in my patch of growing goodness
Slow Seasons, Gentle Healing
Gardening in winter is not about doing lots. It is about simply being part of something. It is about trusting what is beneath the soil, finding comfort in nurture and giving yourself permission to pause. When life feels busy or overwhelming, the garden offers a slower rhythm. One that does not demand perfection or productivity. One that simply invites you to be present.
I was told something a while back and I think about it all the time …The winter garden teaches a quiet truth. Rest is not the absence of growth. It is the preparation for it.
And in those small moments - a Trowel in hand, soil under nails, steam curling from a cuppa in the cold air - nature gently brings us back to ourselves. Whatever winter brings, the garden always holds a promise. Spring will come. If only the doctors would prescribe a dose of gardening to people, I think the world would be a happier, calmer place.
Spring will come but until then, the winter garden still has its own magic.
