When the weather is - well, what January weather is supposed to be - at least not fit for planting, and not comfortable for garden center shopping, nothing’s more evocative of spring than reading books and searching catalogs and Web sites, thinking about what you would like to plant.

If I knew how all the holes would get dug, in a short span of time, which is no easy job in this heavy clay root-bound soil around here, I could take Christmas money and go crazy buying small or mid-sized new camellias.

I know where I’d be planting them - in a large wooded area, high shade in the summer, sunshine right now. The walkways aren’t exactly edged, and extraneous plants haven’t been gotten out, which includes evasive honeysuckle. But I know where things are going, and there’s not much else out there right now.

As for which ones - it almost doesn’t matter. All camellias are beautiful. Their glossy evergreen leaves are attractive year round, and you can choose among the camellia sasanquas for autumn, and the early, mid and late season camellia japonicas for the rest of the year. They come in different bloom forms, and myriad colors, white and then on through rose to red, with variations.

If I were going shopping today (well, not today - it’s still below freezing and the wind is blowing) one day soon, I’d follow my own sometimes-neglected rule. When I got to a nursery - and I’d visit several, I carefully clutch my car keys, a notebook and a writing implement, and lock everything else safely in the car, to leave both hands free for writing, for turning over labels, and also to avoid the temptation of buying right now.

When I’ve done this, I’ve found I remember a few ‘must have’ specimens when I get home, and with my notes and some stern attention to what I can get planted quickly or can actually find room for, I can sort of make a definite list.

Camellias are gorgeous, but they have a slight advantage: they are at their best at a time when our gardens may be beautiful, but with other types of plants. They can be the stars of the Southern winter garden.

One place to look at camellias, not such a great variety but as a prominent landscape feature, is the garden at the Eudora Welty home. These were her favorite plants, and the garden has attracted the attention of the national Camellia Trail being orchestrated.

If you are traveling, and want to look for camellias, Bellingrath Gardens near Mobile used to be the number one stop. Hurricane Frederick in 1973 wiped out many of the sheltering trees that provided the necessary high shade. But there are others, a little further east, including the Camellia Garden of the South Carolina Botanical Garden in Clemson.

If you’re new to camellias, and maybe to the South, you need to know a few basics about your choices. I’ve already mentioned the autumn “sasanqua” species and their hybrids, and the winter and early spring flowering “japonica” types. Probably 60 percent of all camellias purchased are the “japonicas.”

Other species include the olifera, the hiemalis, and the vernalis. Other rarer species are arriving in this country as a result of plant explorers and their work. When we were Christmas tree shopping and I ventured over to the camellias, I did not have my notebook, but was amazed at the variety.

Camellias traditionally have one of the five basic forms, though hybridizing has brought some variations. There’s the full double, and the peony-formed, which has fewer petals than the double but a more open center. There’s the single, a more old-fashioned type, closer to the species. Then there are the anemone and the semi-double forms.

Now that you’ve chosen a camellia, or several, there’s the matter of siting and planting it properly. The planting spot needs protection from dry and bitter winter winds. A southern or eastern exposure is good, but don’t plant close to a sunny wall or where the full morning sun can trigger the buds to open early in the day, when the air is too cold for open flowers to survive. They’re a plant of high shade, and the edges of woods.

Camellias, like azaleas and rhododendrons, want a low or acid pH, five to six. That’s just right for most of us. They won’t want sand that drains too quickly or clay that stays too wet. So what do you do? Avoid the sandy sites totally, and in difficult clay, use a humus-rich, acid-based amendment. And do not plant too deeply. Mulch two to four inches deep with pine straw once you are finished.

Camellias should be planted with the top of the root ball two inches higher than the surrounding level. You need an undisturbed mound of soil in the center of the planting hole, to set the root ball on, preventing the plant from sinking too deeply. But around this would be a wide hole, for enriched soil. If you can manage it, the hole should be at least eight inches wider than the root ball, all around. This hole around the undisturbed center mound should be six inches deeper than the bottom of the root ball. This gives future roots space to grow. A daunting digging prospect, to be sure.

Watering? Intelligently and regularly. Once you’re through with the planting, take some of that extra soil, possibly the difficult clay, and build a reservoir. Fill it with water. Then let the soil dry out before watering again. For the first year, if you don’t receive an inch of rain each week, you’ll need to water. In future seasons, they should be watered deeply but infrequently in the summer. Feed lightly at the end of March or in early April, with one of the readily-available acid-lovers plant foods, and once again in June. And if you must prune the plant to shape it, get that done before the new growth starts in spring.