What happens when the snow melts in the middle of winter? I made a brief video to show you:

Some roads and a few low bridges have flooded, forcing early school closings and rerouting traffic.

A thaw in January is common, but rain doesn’t always accompany it. Sometimes it is brilliantly sunny, inspiring snowball fights in shirt sleeves. A thaw like this is similar to what happens in mud season–except we know winter isn’t over yet. Despite warming up to over 50F today, it will drop below freezing tonight and there’s a chance of snow flurries.

Yesterday, the low here was 8F (-13C). That’s not too surprising. But Dee Nash of Red Dirt Ramblings told me her low that same day was 5F (-15C) in Oklahoma. Whoa! What’s going on here? Check out Eric Berger’s explanation in the Houston Chronicle. It turns out a lot of factors have contributed to the south being colder than the north in many cases.

Of course, today the low was -7F (-22C) this morning, the coldest it’s been all winter. But we’re used to it (whether or not we like it) and those Southerners are not.

Spring: when a gardener wonders which of last year’s new plants made it through the winter. A couple of weeks ago, I wrote down a list of things I had planted last year but hadn’t seen make an appearance yet. Here’s the list, with my current thinking on each (click on each thumbnail to enlarge):
Hedyrotis purpurea-This was planted next to a carex that was thoroughly uprooted by chicken scratching. Found the carex and replanted it, and it seems to be surviving. Wondering if the hedyrotis was also scratched up and I didn’t find it, or if it’s still dormant and yet to emerge, or if it just plain died. Planted early September.

Arum italicum-A seedling from my local garden buddy. I actually saw this after the snow melted, a single variegated leaf. But I haven’t seen it in a while, and I’m afraid the post-melt cold snaps might have done it in. I mulched the area with some fluffy dry leaves, just in case it wants to come back from the roots. Planted early September.

Pachysandra procumbens-I couldn’t even remember where I had planted this. Had to look it up. Found one dry stem and the name tag. Planted early September.

Euphorbia ‘Jesse’-The grower says this plant is “hardy in virtually every state in the US” but Nan Ondra told me hers didn’t make it through its first winter, so I’m not real hopeful. Planted early September.

Euphorbias ‘Blackbird’ and ‘Glacier Blue’-These two spectacular plants were sent to me as trials last year. Both are rated hardy to zone 7, so I’m not expecting them to come back, just wishing they would. Miracles do happen. And yes, zone envy rears its ugly head.

‘Sugar Tip’ hibiscus-this variegated Rose of Sharon was nibbled by something shortly after it was planted the second week of September. The rose of Sharon that was here when we moved in is one of the last plants to leaf out, so the jury is still out on this one.

‘Grand Bleu’ caryopteris-I know in my colder climate you are supposed to wait until spring to cut back this woody perennial–but when? Do I wait until I see buds swelling (which I don’t)? Do I just cut back willy-nilly? Most woody plants have not leafed out yet, so probably I need more patience with this one. Planted late May.

‘Blue Chip’ Buddleia-I planted three of these, all trial plants, at three different times. None of them show any sign of growth, just like the caryopteris. This is another woody plant that you are supposed to cut back in spring. My purple smokebush is starting to break bud, and many people cut that back, too. Dead, or not dead?

Corydalis lutea-A week ago I was looking at a plant that sort of looked like a corydalis, but was around the corner from where I thought I planted the Corydalis lutea last year. And then a couple of days ago, voila! the yellow fumewort showed up right where I thought I planted it. I’m pretty sure the impostor is Adlumia fungosa, a native biennial vine in the same family as corydalis and bleeding hearts.

Actaea simplex ‘Black Negligee’-I was incredulous, viewing the brown, desiccated remains of what I thought was ‘Black Negligee.’ Wasn’t it hardy to Zone 4? Didn’t I plant it in June, giving it plenty of time to get established? Then it emerged from the soil, vigorous and healthy, and I had to figure out what the dead plant was. Turns out it was a foxglove, one of the foxgloves that looked fine in March. Looking around, I realize that none of my Digitalis purpurea, whether the pink ones I’ve had for years or the ‘Faerie Queen Apricot’ seedlings I planted out last fall, seem to be alive. And they were alive, or at least green, in March. This is not the first time I’ve lost foxgloves to mud season. I wish I knew the secret to pulling them through.

Let’s summarize our findings

Some plants just don’t show up. Some woody plants never break bud. Some plants are just late to emerge. Other plants are there, just not where you remember them. Some plants emerge from the snow cover looking fine, but die before spring really gets underway. And then there is user error, which we really didn’t get into. You don’t recognize it, and pull it out. You forget it’s there, and dig it up.

How many of the above have happened to you? Are there plants you’re still waiting for, wondering if you’re waiting in vain? Are any of them on this list? What is your latest plant to emerge or leaf out? Do you think there’s hope for any of my shrubs?

Not too long ago, a reader emailed me and asked,

I bought some hostas and dwarf bleeding hearts to plant. Shortly thereafter I hurt my knee and I can’t go out there and plant them. They are all planted in one gallon plastic pots. How can I safely winter them? If I put them in my garage they will still freeze.

You may have plants in containers that should have been planted, but weren't. How do you winter them over?

It is the roots you are worried about freezing. The rule of thumb is that roots in a pot will effectively be in a situation two zones colder than plants in the ground. So if the plant tag says zone 5 and you are in zone 7 they should be fine.

But I’m guessing you live in a colder place. Definitely keep them outside until the tops die down. You want them to go dormant. After that, you want to put them in a situation where they will stay dormant but not get colder than two zones warmer than the hardiness zone on the tag. That will be different depending on what is available at your place. The garage might be okay, if it gets cold, but not as cold as outside. You could put them up against the house, and surround them with bags of leaves for insulation.

The other thing to consider is the greater the volume of soil in the container, the more insulation the roots will have. A one gallon container is not that big, and won’t have much insulating soil mix for the roots, so you might err on the side of caution and make that three zones warmer than the tag.

I have a drafty, dirt floor cellar that barely stays above freezing. I have put dormant plants in the coldest corner of the cellar and pulled them through the winter. They did start growing sooner than they should have, and made some pale spindly growth, but I very carefully hardened them off and planted them after all danger of frost. It was a pain in the neck but better than losing them.

There are snowdrops under this snow

Some of you, I am sure, thought I was being overly pessimistic when I said the snowdrops sprouting in January wouldn’t be blooming in a month. As you can see above, my assessment of how things would go was pretty accurate. As a matter of fact, at this point I am not sure I will ever see them.

Yes, I am suffering from WWNE, a delusional malady to which Northerners are particularly vulnerable. WWNE stands for Winter Will Never End, and it’s also known as cabin fever. Symptoms include shuffling around the house looking glum, and looking out the window and sighing. Wednesday we had snow which turned to freezing rain, and then it got just above freezing, turning everything to slush, which then froze. My driveway was a river of ice yesterday, enough to make even WWNE-resistant people sigh:

A couple of weeks ago, I attempted to self-medicate:

Two pots of Primula acaulis purchased from the grocery store

Relief was only temporary. After a while, the primroses lost their power to convince me spring was right around the corner. They seemed to be merely a mirage, a tease.

Yes, the only true cure is time. Once again, this gardener must practice patience, and wait. And hope. And trust that

As long as the earth endures,
seedtime and harvest,
cold and heat,
summer and winter,
day and night
will never cease.
Genesis 8:22

Check out all the other Bloom Day posts.

For those of you who think my snowdrops will shortly be rocketing from the earth and bursting into bloom: fear not. The snow came back. More predicted tomorrow.

Happy New Year.

One of the nice things about short winter days is that it’s not too difficult to get up before sunrise. These two photos were taken a bit after seven thirty in the morning. It’s not going to be much of a white Christmas, I’m afraid. Sunday the snow pack was dissolved by rain and highs in the 50s(F), and the highs are supposed to be above freezing the rest of the week.

In the second photo below, the edge of the cloud cover appears as a straight line, revealing the golden light coming up over the horizon.

The Heavens are telling the glory of God,
The wonder of his work displays the firmament.

Today that is coming speaks it the day,
The night that is gone to following night.
The Heavens are telling the glory of God,
The wonder of his work displays the firmament.

In all the lands resounds the word,
Never unperceived, ever understood.
The Heavens are telling the glory of God,
The wonder of his work displays the firmament.
~from “The Creation” by Franz Joseph Haydn

That is the question–sorry, Hamlet. And White Flower Farm has some help with the answer: an article on Plants Slow to Break Dormancy. They have a lot of other articles in the Newsletter section of their Garden Help.

I wrote this essay several years ago after the winter of 1993-1994 and I dig it out to reread every winter in which I feel I’m suffering excessively. Of course, no matter how bad your winter is, someone else can top you, so I don’t promote this as the worst cabin fever anyone ever had, just the worst I ever had. Still, I bet I’ve got at least 80% of you beat.

Rundy and Talitha standing in our driveway March 1994. The arrows point to the top of the piles of shoveled snow, which rise above Rundy’s five-foot height. You can also see the edge of the porch roof on the left. (Click image for larger view.)

I suppose I should have been suspicious when we got a foot of snow on Halloween. But we live in a zone 4 climate, and flurries, even the occasional inch or two, are not uncommon for the end of October. Besides, it was really wet snow. Another couple degrees warmer and it would have been all rain. In a day or two it had melted–a fluke. But soon it snowed again. And again. The children thought it was wonderful. They sledded and built snowmen to their hearts’ content. But it got colder and colder. Unlike other years, the temperature didn’t rise above freezing, even during the day. The driveway never showed itself; the piles of shoveled snow on either side rose higher and higher. Eventually, the snow was just too high to be any fun. When it’s hip high on an adult, you can imagine where it comes up to on a third grader.

By December it was routinely below zero (F) at night. (That’s -18C.) In our old, under-insulated house, when it gets that cold, the windows frost over completely. In the whole house, there was only one window you could see out of, and it belonged to the kitchen door. But what was there to look at? Snow, and more snow. The sub-zero cold did have one advantage. There’s a certain macho pleasure in calling the office, “I’m going to be in late this morning. It got down to 37 below last night (that’s -38C) and I can’t get the car started yet.” But that gets old fast.

I referred to the children. Did I mention how many? Eight, ranging in age from infant to teenager, living with two adults in a house of approximately 2,032 square feet. Cozy, huh? I teach them at home–which I love–but it meant this: with the exception of animal feeding and taking out the garbage, the kids never left the house. From November to March–42% of the year, by my reckoning–we were shut up indoors. Towards the end, I was reduced to pacing around the house, looking out the window, looking for–what? For something green, I think, though even the soggy, squishy remains of what was once grass–how many months ago?–would have been a welcome sight after looking at snow for so many months. I didn’t sleep well at nights. The kids were driving me nuts. They were driving each other nuts.

Normally, by the middle of March, the snow is gone, and we ride a roller coaster of alternate thaws and freezes. This year, on March 19th, we had another 4 inches of snow added to the foot or more that was still there. I heard rumors of crocuses in New Jersey and tulips in Texas, and I wondered if I would live to see the day. We started to clutch at straws:
“Don’t you think the trees have a reddish cast? That means they’re going to bud soon; spring can’t be far behind, can it?”
“I heard on the radio that someone saw a robin.”
“Someone where? Georgia?”

Finally, winter broke–just before I did, I’d say. Towards the end of March we got three days of rain. All that snow was gone within a week. I wish I could say, unequivocally, that it was a rotten winter. But I can’t. To my surprise, when the snow melted, I saw my bulbs had sprouted under the snow. My crocuses bloomed earlier than any other winter I’d kept records for. Despite the longest, coldest, snowiest winter in memory, spring came earlier than ever.

I consider myself a dedicated gardener, but I don’t know if I can bring myself to hope it happens again.

I don’t have any bare ground for crocus to be poking up through–we have at least 18 inches of snow on the ground. Is it because the crocus are near the heated greenhouse that they are coming up? I hope some time this winter you and Judy both can tell us what size and type greenhouse you each have, what criteria you used in choosing your greenhouse, and what, if anything, you would do differently if you were going to purchase one again.