Disaster Averted?

ProfessorRoush has a question mark on the title because I'm not entirely sure yet, but the 4 inches of wet snow last Monday seems to have hardly bothered the plants, and any real damage probably came in the next two nights with lows of 27ºF and a really hard frost one of those mornings.  A late snow does make some pretty pictures, however, even though I and this pink crabapple didn't appreciate it like we could have.

I know that you're wondering how all the plants fared, so I'll try to get right to that.  I'm actually pleasantly surprised that anything at all is left, as green and leafed out as things were, but almost everything came through with minimal damage.   Yes, it whacked the 'Ann' and 'Jane' Magnolias, but they were on their last moments anyway.   The variegated iris shown below has not even blinked, if anything, shining brighter today than ever.

I think a lot of the damage was limited by the heavy blanket of very wet snow insulating all the plants and then quickly melting off.   Fantastically quickly as a matter of fact.  The picture at the left was taken around 7:20 a.m. on the morning of 04/20/21.  The picture below of the exact same view was taken at 6:38 p.m. the same evening. 

Fernleaf Peony

Fernleaf under snow

And the plants recovered just as quickly.   The picture on the left is of the fernleaf peony and tulips covered by snow, and on the right, just a few nights later.   That fernleaf was blooming fully beneath the snow and it never looked back.  You can click on them if you want to see them larger.

And the lilacs, the lilacs that I was so worried about?  Well, here are the row of lilacs tonight, and the exact same bloom from 'Declaration that I showed you in the blog entry from 4/20.  I think the cold seems to have lightened the blooms a little bit, but they have retained their fragrance and held up remarkedly well.   Stepping on my garage pad tonight, in the middle of a brisk wind, is like stepping into a perfume factory.  

Last, but not least, I'm sure you're all wondering about my beloved 'Yellow Bird' Magnolia.   Before the snow, I thought it was going to give me the best show yet, the blooms just ready to peak on the exact day of the snow.  Well, I can't say it came through it unscathed, but I think it will survive to bloom another year.   The leaves that opened early are a bit frost-damaged, and the blooms are discolored up close (see below), but it seems to not be nearly so damaged as I feared.  And that, my friends, is my summary for the entire event; a near-heart-attack-inducing late spring snow that wasn't nearly so bad as I feared.   Thank you, God!

'Yellow Bird', today

'Yellow Bird', today.

Almost....

'Yellow Bird' Magnolia

Spring almost happened.  So fleeting, crushed dreams in a few early morning hours. Redbuds, magnolias and lilacs in full bloom on 04/20/2021.   I'll post more later.  For now, the pictures will have to speak my devastation.

'Declaration' Lilac

The Maiden

Fringed Tulips

Bella

Back to Winter

And.....winter again.  Just as ProfessorRoush was hoping to put the seasonal losses behind us, spring whimpered out of the way and let winter's lioness roar back in full bloodlust.  We had two very unfortunate anti-garden nights this week; a hard freeze on Monday following a strong north wind that shook the house and then a dusting of snow and another brief dip to freezing temperatures Thursday night last.  Only this fake steel rose near my front walk seems to be impervious to the damage.








If you can't bear to look, then turn away quickly, but let me show you what a hard freeze does to asparagus.  I looked at these growing, stiffening spears on Sunday and thought about picking them, but decided another couple of days would get me a more filling harvest.  Now here they are, limp and broken, their tumescence and potential gelded by an icy maiden.  I'm sure this picture is an apt metaphor for some other issue that vexes old gardeners, but I can't recall anything like it at present, just another incidence of déja vu that will come to me later.







What will become of the snow-kissed peonies, like the ones pictured at right?  Or the daylilies and young roses, prematurely coaxed by the warming sun into rapid growth and now slapped down for their exuberance?   I have hope for the peonies yet, frost-resistant as these sensuous beauties can be, but some were beginning to bud, and I may yet harvest only a crop of small black buttons from the early peonies.






 In the two days since the snow, I've re-examined the daylilies and most may recover; leaves wrinkled and a little brown on the edges, but they may recover.  ProfessorRoush, however, is retreating for a time back into his COVID-quarantined lair, suckling his thumb in the darkness.  I'm tempted, knowing that the lowest forecast temperature for the next 10 days is 47ºF, to uncover the greening strawberries, but I just don't trust Kansas.  If I lose the strawberries, I lose all hope, and so I will change the oil in the lawnmower and sweep out the barn, and nurse the surviving onion starts, but I will not offer the strawberries in sacrifice to please the fickle gardening gods.  Hear me, Priapos, god of vegetable gardening?  You will not get my strawberries!

Spring Is Canceled

Let this post serve as a double warning to gardeners and other fragile souls downwind from Manhattan, Kansas.  Give up hope.  I mean it.  Forget about your previous rules regarding planting potatoes or peas on Saint Patrick's day.  Forget about a harvest of peaches or apples or apricots for the coming year.  Forget about any passion you hold inside in hopes of a great gardening year.

Spring-like weather in the past two months had us completely fooled, and by "us" I mean both the gardener and his plants, into thinking that winter had fled and better times were on the way.   We haven't seen rain for months, but I went to bed happy that some moisture was predicted overnight.  A vast hoax, however, has been perpetrated upon me.  I woke up to subfreezing temperatures, blizzard winds, and the scene below in my backyard this morning and loudly spouted a few words that I won't repeat here in case there are children within earshot.

I'll let the picture-heavy text below speak for itself in lieu of me trying to find the words to express despair.

The cranes felt that they'd come too far north and they were not happy.

This photo of lilac 'Annabelle', just coming into bloom, is reminiscent of the photo that appears on the cover of my book, from 2007.

My front garden looks just as bad:  The forsythia is still bright, but the various plants covered by snow here include sedums, daylilies, Monarda, peonies, and roses.

The daffodils were on their way out anyway, but I have to say goodbye to these beautiful scragglers.

Kon-Tiki Head was not pleased at his northeastern exposure.  Neither were the fully-leafed-out roses in his vicinity.

The only cheerful bright spot in the now-winterized landscape are these variegated iris.  I wonder if they will still look this cheery by next week? 

 







Anyway, there are other photos that I may add later, but they're just as depressing as these examples. I could show, for instance, a photo of the clump of Puschkinia that I highlighted in my last entry, but it is just a blob beneath the snow, no flowers to be seen.   I'm sorry for the dark nature of these photos but I waited for morning as late as I dared before grabbing these pictures and rushing on to work.  That being said, the gray tones match my mood, so why not let them convey the despair?

Oh, at the beginning I mentioned a double warning and only gave you one.  The second warning, other than the lousy weather coming your way, is this:  NEVER TRY TO GARDEN IN KANSAS!