Posts Tagged arctic blast
My goodness, Winter has certainly been having his way with us lately, hasn’t he? At my house, we got rounds of freezing rain and sleet, followed a day later by about a half inch of snow. In a “normal” winter, all would have melted in short order. But this year, Siberian cold followed the precipitation. At my house, the thermometer on our hill bottomed out at 1.6 degrees Fahrenheit. No, that is not a typo. Before and after this polar low temperature, our lows and highs had remained mostly below freezing for quite some time. In our 26 years here, I don’t think the ground has ever been so thoroughly frozen.
We finally got a glorious 55-degree high yesterday. Wonder Spouse and I walked around the yard, slipping and sliding in that welcome mud I mentioned in the title for this piece. But the mud is the result of thawing of only maybe the top quarter-inch of the soil. Walking on this ice-hard ground, you could feel the lack of give with every step. Even on the floodplain beside our creek, which is usually squishy wet this time of year and booby-trapped with myriad mole tunnels, the ground didn’t give at all. It felt as if I were walking on sharp rocks of multiple sizes spread unevenly across the terrain.
Even the deer tracks were really mud skid marks. Their hooves didn’t penetrate the frozen ground either. This is all bad news for southeastern Piedmont gardeners eager to plant their spring gardens. You can’t plant in frozen soil.
Most years by now, my spring veggie beds would be weeded and planted. But you can’t weed frozen beds. My little greenhouse is nearly full with seedlings of lettuces, spinaches, kale, beets, dill, etc. Somehow, I’m going to need to figure out how to transplant them all from their starter cells to larger pots. And then find room for all the pots in the greenhouse. This is going to get … interesting.
Yesterday’s brief warm-up (more snow is in our forecast) had me out in the greenhouse in shirtsleeves transplanting some of the cuttings I took last fall into individual pots. They were well-rooted and beyond ready for their own spaces. I don’t usually take cuttings of my front garden perennials in the fall. But last fall, something told me to root fresh cuttings of rosemary, several perennial salvias, verbenas, and lavender. And now I am very glad I did. The salvias and rosemaries may have been completely killed by that 1.6-degree night. They certainly aren’t looking well at the moment. Many other plants are showing cold damage too, including the large loropetalums up front. The lovely pink flowers on my flowering apricot are all soft brown, but a few tightly closed buds may yet yield more flowers, if Winter decides to loosen his grip.
He can’t hold out for much longer. Soon the sun will be too strong to be denied. Meanwhile, I’ll be juggling plants in my crowded greenhouse, testing soil temperatures in my vegetable garden, and keeping my feathered friends well supplied until the insects return.
That was the temperature on our hill this morning just as the sun began to reveal our icy landscape. We were fortunate this time; the electricity remained on. Thanks to the valiant chugging of the small heater in our modest greenhouse, the temperature never dropped below 35 degrees — colder than optimal to be sure, but not freezing. I doubt any plants inside were harmed any worse than they were when the power did go out earlier this winter, dropping the greenhouse temperature to 18.
Wonder Spouse took the pictures you see here from inside our house, not wishing to discover what zero degrees might do to his camera. Before he took these shots, he went outside to check on things. His movements startled a doe and her twin yearlings. We had just seen them yesterday in the early afternoon, boldly walking up to the back fence, nibbling on my Virginia Sweetspire. When a yearling started devouring my one large Hearts-A-Bursting, I got mad and pounded on the window, causing them to bound across the snowy floodplain and out of sight.
We only got an inch and a half of snow Tuesday night, not even enough to cover all the imperfections in our landscape. But it never got above freezing yesterday, so the arctic air had its way with us this morning. It’s been so cold for so long that my creek is fully topped by ice more than an inch thick in most places. As the sun rises in the morning, its light makes the icy creek sparkle almost too brightly for my eyes to comfortably admire.
When Wonder Spouse startled the doe and her yearlings this morning, I watched them bound across the floodplain. But when the mother deer got to the edge of the creek, she halted abruptly, her young nearly bumping into her as they skidded to a stop, almost cartoon-worthy.
I watched Mama Deer step delicately onto the ice-covered creek while her yearlings watched. She got all four legs onto the ice without it breaking; I was surprised. When she took another careful step, the ice couldn’t handle her weight. She seemed to have been expecting this to happen, because she barely reacted as the ice beneath her other three legs gave way and plunged her into what had to be very cold water. As soon as she had regained her balance on the creek bottom, she bounded out of the water to the other side, then turned back to encourage her offspring to join her.
The first yearling managed to perfectly aim for the hole in the ice that Mama had created, bounding in and out of the water lightning fast. The second one didn’t aim as well. It hit the edge of the icy hole with its front legs, slid with a splash into the hole, scrambled around to get its feet on the creek bottom, then bounded out, soaking wet. I’ve never seen fur coats as thick and rough-looking as the ones on these three deer, so I’m hoping Yearling #2 managed to stay warm enough to survive.
To be sure, this has been a winter to test the endurance of all of us. The weather seers are promising a “significant change in the weather pattern.” Theoretically, the western US will now get the cold and precipitation, while the South returns to “normal.” For the sake of all my southern brethren, I sincerely hope the forecasters are correct.
Personally, I am more than ready for Spring’s arrival. I have a feeling I am not alone in this sentiment. Stay warm, everyone!
Happy New Year, gardening friends. I’ve got several posts planned that I’m not quite ready to put up, but I can feel the worrying of my fellow piedmont gardeners as we face the coldest weather in 15 years.
Tonight, the temperatures will drop into the single digits at my house, and tomorrow, with full sun and no snow cover, the highs will not reach the mid-20s. That is serious cold for around here, no doubt about it.
It’s happened before
But this kind of drastic dip in winter temperatures happens to this region every couple of decades. I know; I’ve lived through them, and so have most of my plants.
Back in 1985, we had several nights of sub-zero lows in early January. It got down to -9 at my house. In that case, I think the plants fared better than Wonder Spouse and I did.
How much trouble are we in for?
So what can we expect to happen to our beloved plants from an arctic blast like this, and what can we do to help?
Native deciduous trees and shrubs will be fine
The short answer to both questions is not much. Native piedmont plants are deeply dormant at the moment. Dormancy means metabolism rates are slow. In deciduous plants, next year’s flower and leaf buds are still tightly shut, protected by tough outer layers of sepals and bracts that shelter tender inner buds. Native deciduous plants — trees and shrubs — will be just fine.
On the other hand, you can expect at least some damage to evergreens, even native ones. The degree of damage will depend on the location and age of the plants. Native hollies might get some leaf burn, which means they’ll look unsightly until new leaves replace the old ones next growing season. But if those hollies are foundation plants beside your house, the warmth of your house may protect the shrubs from the worst of the cold.
Some of our native evergreens aren’t actually native to the piedmont region, however. For example, Southern Magnolias are actually native to more southern parts of the US. It is likely that you will see some damaged outer branches, especially higher in the trees. All the leaves may exhibit what amounts to the equivalent of freezer burn. They may look brown or yellow and just generally sickly, but new leaves will replace these next spring. Some outer branches may be killed. Don’t try to prune what you think are damaged areas until the tree starts to grow next spring. It is almost impossible to tell what’s really dead until growth begins.
The native wax myrtle shrubs often used by landscapers as foundation plantings and screens are native to our coastal plain, not the piedmont. They are described as “variably evergreen,” meaning that when they get hit with single-digit temperatures, they are likely to drop most or all of their leaves. Most of the shrubs will still be alive, but any screening benefits will disappear until the new growing season.
I am worried about the Florida Anise-trees (Illicium spp.) I’ve added to my landscape in the last five years or so. These are native to coastal areas of the deeper South, not North Carolina. I am expecting that, at minimum, branch tips will be killed. Damage may be more extensive, but I’m hoping the shrubs — now all well over 5 feet tall and wide — will not die to the ground. I won’t know until the new growing season arrives in a few months.
Those of you who grow camellias may see damaged leaves and/or dead branches after this cold spell. If you were wise and sited yours away from north winds, your camellias will fare better.
Non-native early bloomers
Of course, the non-native trees and shrubs blooming and/or about to bloom in my yard are probably toast. My beautiful Prunus mume trees are blooming. Zillions of fattening buds were just about to burst open. I fear that this level of cold will likely kill all the flower buds. They are at too tender a stage. I’ve cut a number of bud-laden branches (the trees needed pruning anyway) and brought them indoors. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing all the flowers.
The January Jasmine may fare better. Current flowers and almost-open buds will fry, but this shrub hugs the ground. I’m hoping still-sleeping flower buds will survive.
Winters have been mild for the last decade. A couple of plants that I know to be tender perennials have died to the ground every winter, then sprouted anew each spring. A cultivar of lantana, the name of which is long forgotten, has been surprising me by reappearing every spring for the last decade. But this cold spell may kill the roots, especially because the ground is saturated. Winter rains have been abundant.
My pineapple sages have also been reappearing every spring for a number of years. Again, wet soils and single-digit temperatures will probably kill the roots.
It is also likely that some or all of my perennial culinary herbs will be killed. Rosemaries are likely victims; so are the sages and lavenders. Oreganos and thymes are usually more resilient, but if the wet soils freeze solid, roots of all will die.
The good news, I guess, is that I’ve got cuttings of rosemary, pineapple sage, and lavender growing in the greenhouse. I always like to have extras to give away. This spring, I may be using them myself.
The Bottom Line
Tonight’s cold will certainly damage some plants, especially if our wet soils freeze solid. But I’m not convinced that the cold will stick around long enough to profoundly affect our landscapes. The weather seers seem to think that tonight and tomorrow will be the coldest periods. By the weekend, my area is predicted to be in the low 60s with yet more rain.
Frankly, all this rain is more of a problem for me than the cold. I am grateful for every drop, especially after decades of drought, but it is much more challenging to complete winter landscaping tasks when the ground is muddy and the skies are leaking.
Stay warm and dry, everyone. Bring your animals indoors, and if you can, feed your local wild birds. They need all the help they can get during our wacky winter weather.