Winter sometimes gives us brilliant days—sunny, crisp and clear. Everything sparkles, especially if fresh snow is part of the landscape. But then there are the other days, when earth, sky and human dispositions are all equally gray and dispiriting. Chilliness creeps in and stays put, making you understand why sensible animals hibernate during the dark months.
But most of us have to rise up every day to face the realities of mortgages, families or other obligations. Hibernation has to wait for the occasional hour on weekends or blessed snow days. This is why it is important to have flowers in the house. I follow my mother’s rule of keeping blooms around every day of the year. In winter, when the garden has little to offer, I buy them. To stave off bankruptcy, I usually invest in inexpensive grocery store bunches of long-lasting types like carnations. To fatten up my cheap-thrill bouquets, I add quantities greenery from the garden. Holly, ivy and variegated osmanthus or false ivy work well, but at this time of the year, my favorite filler is branches of evergreen wintercreeper, specifically Euonymus fortunei ‘Emerald Gaiety’.
As the name suggests, wintercreeper is a low grower, rising only 12 to 15 inches off the ground and creeping across the earth like a carpet. Individual plants spread up to two feet. ‘Emerald Gaiety’ features the small, ovoid leaves characteristic of many euonymus, but those leaves boast white edges or variegation. In winter the white edges turn pink, giving the plants even greater distinction. It also makes the branches highly decorative in the post-holiday doldrums season. Mix them up with a few pink, purple or white carnations and you will have a gorgeous arrangement that will last for at least two weeks, providing you change the water periodically.
Euonymus is a fair-sized genus, home to nearly 180 species. It belongs to the Celastraceae family, which also contains two familiar ornamentals, American and Oriental bittersweet. Like them, wintercreeper has a vining nature. It is perfectly happy creeping across the ground, but if it runs into something vertical, it will also start to climb. I have to discipline mine to keep it from scaling the privet hedge that stands in back of it.
Wintercreeper has virtues beyond its four-season ornamental value. It thrives in a wide variety of light conditions and can even work in the dreaded dry shade situations that are the bane of many gardeners’ existence. By and large, it covers the ground thickly enough to form a carpet that outcompetes most weeds. However, you can easily plant spring-flowering bulbs in the middle of that carpet and they will come up right through it. Once the daffodils or tulips are finished, the wintercreeper covers the dying foliage. This is definitely a win-win, especially for lazy gardeners like me.
In my front bed, I planted several groups of five, large-flowered daffodils amid the wintercreeper. When they come up in spring, they look like bouquets rising amid the greenery. The neighborhood dog walkers are always complimentary about the show.
‘Emerald Gaiety’ works equally well when planted atop a low wall and allowed to sprawl over the edge. In fact, it is a good edge-softener wherever you plant it.
The fortunei species came to America from its native Japan in about 1907. It is named for Scottish plant hunter Robert Fortune—1812-1880—who botanized widely in Asia. He was the first to smuggle tea out of China to British-held India, which ultimately resulted in the establishment of Britain’s long-running habit of tea-drinking. I lift my cup to him every morning.
‘Emerald Gaiety’ and its fortunei relatives are not without liabilities. If allowed to escape into woodlands, wintercreeper can be invasive. Most ornamental varieties do not flower, fruit or set seed, preventing birds from spreading the plant. Mine resides in a bed that is bounded by pavement on three sides. I keep it trimmed on the fourth, so it is not going anywhere.
Deer allegedly like wintercreeper, but in my neighborhood, Mr. Antlers and his kin much prefer other plants, even in winter. Perhaps they are gourmets or at least finicky eaters.
Variegated evergreens like ‘Emerald Gaiety’ make the garden sing in all seasons, but the song is the sweetest when the days are the darkest.