Home as terrarium

Welcome to February, the shortest but longest month of the year. You're probably tempted to toss out my guidance on how to slow down time, so the depths of winter pass as quickly as possible.

My Mom taught me a trick as a child to making this month more endurable. On a Saturday afternoon, she'd take me along on a trip to Clargreen Gardens – not to buy plants, but to roam through scaled-down landscapes the garden centre created to inspire, complete with ponds and flagstone pathways and jagged tropical leaves and hot misty air. It was an instant holiday, a foretaste of summer.

If you live in Toronto like I do, you always have Allan Gardens at hand for spontaneous winter getaways. But why not create an equivalent at home?

One of the positives I've experienced post-pandemic is finally succeeding in keeping houseplants alive for more than a few months. Greenery indoors is now my secret fuel when the world outside is leached of colour.

The Pilea above is my living room buddy whose mood keeps changing day by day. Technically, I'm supposed to rotate it every so often to keep its growth evenly distributed, but I like its off-kilter look, leaves jostling one other for sun, a hyperexcited crowd.

Assorted succulents keep my kitchen and dining room lively. Here's a spiky fave:

A surprise discovery is that even artificial plants have an elevating effect on my state of mind. A friend gave me a trio of ceramic cacti from IKEA for Christmas, and no matter how I arrange them or where, they lend a warm desert glow to the space.

Get creative with your arranging of plants – real, artificial, or both – and your interior becomes a terrarium, a miniature glassed-in world whose thoughtful design encapsulates the universe.

No matter how much time and effort you expend, keep in mind there's one living organism at home that deserves to be nurtured the most: yourself.

Affectionately,