In the Japanese floristry practice of ikebana, the concept of ma is crucial. The term refers to negative space – in this case, what is left between the stems, leaves and flowers in an arrangement. It’s considered a pause or a breath; a moment to stop and let the eye rest. A break to enable even greater appreciation of the other parts of the arrangement.

An ideal ikebana arrangement will have a perfect balance between negative space and the stems being arranged.

I’m no ikebana master, but most of us can work out when too much cheap floristry filler has been poked into a petrol station bunch. The same applies in gardens. It’s something I’ve been thinking about lately, even as spring gets going and the tulips herald the beginning of another season.

It started in the wake of my buddleja removal. The van-sized shrub at the end of my garden has been reduced to a 2ft stump and a very neat twig construction, or habitat pile. But beyond the crucial patch of negative space left behind is a lovely brick wall, which is now a stage for shadows from the elder that occupies the other corner of the garden.

It was early on a bright March morning, right after the equinox, that I clocked these new additions to the garden: not plants, not paint, not furniture or other accessories. Merely the interplay of light, brick and foliage – a happy side-effect of making space in the garden.

Shadows and light have been vital to my growing spaces ever since I moved to a flat that backed on to some established woodland in south London. It was west-facing, so every evening the trees and leaves – and, in time, what I grew on my balcony – all played out against the wall in warm hues. It was mesmerising. In our last garden, a south-facing brick wall along the back of the wide, shallow plot was beautiful to grow roses up, and also acted as a kind of sundial: I enjoyed watching how the shadows changed with the shifting of the sun through the seasons.

If you’ve got an ugly shed or less-than-amazing boundary, planting things that can cast interesting and elegant shadows can make the most of even the grimmest breeze blocks. The best choices usually have long, tall stems and flowers or seedheads that catch the light – grasses are fantastic, obviously, but fennel works brilliantly too, as do most umbellifers.

It’s a good time to plant all of these. Ideal candidates also make good plant skeletons, holding firm throughout the colder seasons that follow. As the garden dies back, the silhouettes and shadows remain, offering texture, movement and interest in a new, monochrome palette.