Even when there’s snow on the ground, terrariums can nurture delicate indoor blooms. Lilies of the valley and glory of snow bloom under the cloche, and white wood hyacinth and moss fill a terrarium jar in this illustration from “The New Terrarium.”

I don’t know if macrame is making a comeback, but you can still get a manual Olivetti typewriter and Doc Martens boots, so it seems groovy that another 1960s icon, the terrarium, remains alive and kicking.

Essentially an enclosed, glazed container, a terrarium could be something as small and readapted as a Mason jar — or the aquarium or hamster home long since disused — or something grand and purpose-built. I am thinking of a reproduction Wardian case, the wood-and-glass tabletop greenhouses that 19th-century explorers used to keep rare plants alive during far-off expeditions.

The bell-like glass jars called cloches also work. Used outside to force vegetables into growth, they can be found as antiques or as attractive, thick, modern representations. I was in a Smith & Hawken store recently and saw one that was calling to me. It was big, shaped not so much like a bell as an enormous cookie jar, made of hand-blown glass and capped with a galvanized lid. In my mind, I have already acquired it and planted it with slipper orchids and maidenhair ferns and a sea of moss.

A cure for cabin fever

Why this mad compulsion? For one thing, it has been a long winter looking at a wilting lemon tree and a sago palm with cabin fever. They have become churlish by now, the citrus dropping its leaves one by one, the thorny sago palm nipping my legs every time I walk by. But the beauty of a terrarium is that the plants stay humid and healthy because they are in their own enclosed world, a biosphere in which leaves send the soil moisture into the atmosphere, where it condenses on the glass and slides back down to the soil.

Melanie Pyle, a horticulturist with the Smithsonian Institution, said she waters the encased orchids on display at the National Museum of Natural History “maybe once a week.”

But you don’t need a fancy cloche or museum-quality case to create your own little universe.

Regina Lanctot, who sells terrariums and terrarium plants at Merrifield Garden Center in the Washington area, likes to use simple candle lanterns with glass doors that give access to the garden within.

“They’re really cool and they’re not totally sealed,” reducing the risk of mold or soggy soil, she said.

Tovah Martin, a garden writer and houseplant expert, sees terrariums in unexpected guise: cookie jars, glass jars for cotton balls, cake stands, fishbowls, vases and apothecary jars, to name a few. I still want my fancy-schmancy cloche.

Martin has just penned “The New Terrarium” (Clarkson Potter, $25), which champions the idea that terrariums, in all their shapes and forms, are back in vogue. “They can be very stylish,” she said. “They can be totally NOW.”

Terrariums go anywhere

The allure of a microcosmic, self-sustained landscape is that anyone can have a garden with a terrarium, including the apartment dweller, people who don’t like to fuss with plants and those on the road a lot. Martin believes a terrarium in your office cubicle can keep you sane. But the key to success is methodical preparation and, because terrariums usually don’t drain, careful and economic watering.

Plants can grow in pots in a terrarium, but it’s more fun to let them play in the dirt. Martin suggests a base layer made up of a mixture of granulated aquarium charcoal and quarter-inch gravel. This will keep excess water out of the root zones of the plants. The charcoal prevents stagnation, which can lead to mold and root rotting. Lanctot likes to cut a piece of landscape fabric and place it over this base layer to prevent the soil above from migrating down.

Martin suggests using a potting mix 2 to 3 inches deep. “Opt for something that isn’t heavy and offers plenty of drainage,” she writes in her book.

You want the soil to remain open and free-draining, but it is critical, Martin says, to press it around the roots of a new plant to remove any air pockets. “I have got really tiny hands. It helps,” she said, but less dexterous souls can put a cork on the end of a barbecue skewer to tamp the soil. Other tools for moving plants and general grooming include salad tongs, long-handled scissors, a mini rake and tweezers. She also recommends wearing gloves, especially if you are working with sphagnum moss, which can cause a nasty fungal infection of the skin.

Pick plants carefully

Other keys to success are starting with plants free of diseases and pests, and watching for problems. If a plant gets sick, “I scoop it right out,” Martin said. She also keeps the moss trimmed to prevent it from getting congested. Terrariums work best in bright, indirect light and should be kept away from direct sunlight to avoid overheating the plants.

Among terrarium plants, Martin likes ferns, members of the prayer plant and gesneriad families, rhizomatous begonias, peperomias, creeping fig and bromeliads. It helps to pick diminutive plants and dwarf varieties.

Slipper orchids are good candidates because they grow in soil rather than in trees, as moth orchids and cattleyas do. Pyle also likes to use another ground dweller, the jewel orchid (Ludisia discolor). “The leaf is a dark greenish-purple with stripes,” she said, and it sends up tall spikes, each with a dozen or more flowers that are “white with a yellow lip.”

Lanctot advises picking tropical plants, including the tender versions of such plants as mosses, ferns and ivies, because hardy species prefer winter cold and resent having to grow year-round.

The beauty of terrariums, said Lanctot, is that you can set your sights as high, or low, as you like. “I bought this old lantern for nothing and planted one fern, put moss in it. It looked fabulous.”