Being a gardener in the Rocky Mountains is many things, sometimes good, sometimes not so good, but it is surely always a learning adventure.
Mother Nature gives us many glorious reminders that we humans are never really in control. The recent big snowstorm of May 18th and 19th was a perfect example. After getting all our spring vegetables and herbs planted, surviving an earlier spring snowstorm and being past the so-called last frost date of May 15th, Ben and I were ready for the warm days of early summer. Not so fast my pretties… Instead on Thursday we had a storm with heavy snowfall, accumulating up to 18 inches and below freezing overnight temperatures. Ben and I did what we could, bundling up to move valuable potted outdoor plants into the greenhouse, setting up the greenhouse heater and shaking all our leafed-out trees of the heavy wet snow. But the biggest and best thing that I did, after a few snowy hours, was to just let go… I stopped worrying and instead slowed down to witness the beauty and resilience of the moment. Within this place of acceptance I witnessed the following:
A small bird standing in the snow, delicately plucking and eating the seeds off an almost snow-submerged dandelion head.
Green leafed fruit trees in 12" snow
How agile certain trees can be, bending nearly 180 degrees so that the heavy snow could slide off. Ponderosa pine trees are the masters of this skill, but our fruit trees did surprisingly well, though we did lose some branches. Today, three days after the storm, the trees look bright green and are upright once again. It is an unusual sight to see fully leafed, bright green trees in deep snow.
That some trees are more agile than others. My one grafted apple tree, with four different apple varieties, lost all of its big lateral branches. This shows that the grafted joints are less flexible and structurally weaker than those on a regular, un-grafted tree. Good to know.
Broken grafted multi-apple variety tree
How resilient hummingbirds are. They continued drinking the sugar water from the feeders throughout the snowstorm from dawn to dusk. They would sit at the feeder all fluffed up and shaking while drinking. I watched one male hummingbird fly through the storm dodging big snowflakes like a superb aerial dancer. We periodically brought the feeders inside to de-snow them while the little birds buzzed impatiently in the space left vacant. Without a microgram of fat on them, these tiny birds somehow managed to survive the long cold night and were back at the feeder the next day.
Tiny Bartlett pear fruits-to-be
Upon inspecting the fruit trees today, I was delighted to see that even after two big spring snowstorms, it looks like some of the blossoms and young fruit have survived(!) Now that is impressive. We have a dwarf Carmen Jewel sour cherry tree that gives us fruit every year without fail. It is the superstar of our small orchard, but the Bartlett pear tree’s tiny fruit look promising as well. Planting climate-favorable varieties matched for the environment is so important.
Yesterday when we still had twelve inches of snow on all the growing beds, I used the back of a rake to ‘peel’ layers of snow off certain beds. The snow curled off like big white carrot peels. Under all the snow the tiny calendula plants were bright green, upright and damage free. Even more surprising was the happy state of the young zucchini plants when I dug the snow away. The thick layer of snow proved to be a wonderful insulator for the young plants during the freezing nights. The sweet grass, rhubarb, asparagus, nettles, raspberry canes… everything is fine. They all actually all look better now than before the storm.
Survivor zucchini plant
Sweet grass after the big snow
Our small greenhouse was a godsend. On Thursday morning we quickly shook the snow off all the outdoor potted plants (including citrus, fig, lemon verbena, aloe, bay leaf, rosemary and white sage plants) and crammed them into the greenhouse along with all the tomato and pepper starts. Ben set up a heater and thermostat for 45°F, just to keep the plants from getting too cold. At this point the electricity was out (due to the storm) and we were using our solar powered, battery back up system. This too was a godsend as the power was off for close to 24 hours (it was off for much longer for some of our neighbors and I felt for them). After two days in the greenhouse all the plants were good, although thirsty.
How quickly the robins and other birds find the first snow-free piece of land. After I cleared some of the growing beds, several hungry birds quickly swooped in, digging in the moist soil for food.
So here I am feeling fortunate that we got off so lightly with this big snowstorm. Surely that is the final snow of the winter? How many times do I say that every spring? One thing that I have learned is that maybe you cannot predict what is coming next with Mother Nature, but that you can practice sustainability and resilience, and then let go…
Snowy Wildcat Gardens with Boulder Reservoir in the distance