IHAVE DECIDED TO PASS THE REST OF THIS VENGEFUL WINTER in a dream state: dreaming of plants that would make me feel better if only I could see them right now. But they’re either buried or (if they are showing any of their goodies above-ground) inaccessible to me thanks to thick ice or thigh-high snow. So today I’m dreaming of a real beauty of a tree, Stewartia pseudocamellia, whose peeling, cinnamon-colored bark probably looks smashing out there against the white carpet of my tundra, and whose white summer flowers and fiery fall foliage will shine again in their time, forces of heaven willing. Ready for its close-up?