A Flashback from March 28, 2022 – we had just received a dusting of snow.
It’s not about to be inducted into the Winter Storm Hall of fame. And it’s not a hybrid monster freakout “caused by Climate Change” event. No, it’s just a skim coat of white stuff over my freshly prepared garden beds.
I’ve worked to remove all the abandoned stakes, tomato cages, and debris from last year. The frost was out of the ground, and I could rake in the wood ash accumulating on top of them. A neighbor had contributed many bags of pine planer shavings, and these did an excellent job of mulching the pathways between the raised beds. In brief, I was ready!
Of course, it’s still March, and even into April, we can get much more than the dusting that’s on the ground now. And no, the warmer weather didn’t fool me enough to put kale or lettuce into the cold frames – that’s about two weeks out.
But I admit to being seduced; every gardener knows the jubilant seduction that a gradually warming season brings. It’s like my wife running her fingers through my hair – a promise of more yet to come.
However, if it’s less than pleasant to me, watching the cat sitting by the sliding door at a frozen prospect was tougher. Xenia is snow averse. She doesn’t mind water, but snow between her toes is another thing. Her face looks like some people get down on the coast when the tide is out on the marshes, and the brackish smell of tidal flats wafts about. You know… the nose all wrinkled up with a foul odor. Of course, she won’t be out doing her daily garden patrol.
Of course, now I have to put up with both the snow and a hissing cat. Lovely day.
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Nicely told. We’re looking for a bit more snow this year as well, but as you say, it is only March.
A traitorous month…but better than February.
Ah, the seduction of a warm day in March. I wanted – oh I wanted – to begin my garden work the day before yesterday. It was freakishly summerlike. After endless days of rain and mornings in the 30s, we woke up to 55 degrees, it warmed to 81. Eighty-one degrees! There was sunshine, and I sat outside in shorts and sandals and sunglasses and worked on a chicken tunnel project for hours. I resisted messing with the garden. Today, the rains have set in again for the long haul, and it was 39 degrees this morning. 🙂
Yup! it’s a traitorous month. But it always hold so much promise.
In the past I remember we had so much snow during April… So it wouldn’t be surprise for us. There is an old saying in my culture, “March makes you look through the door, makes you burn pickaxes and shovels” Sure dear Lou, it is being so sad for the plants that most of them in Spring followers.. I can understand your lovely Xenia, hoping not too long to stay indoor. Thank you, have a nice day and weekend, Love, nia
Last week while checking the 10-day forecast (fooled into hoping to see daytime highs consistently in the 50s), I did a cartoonish double-take when I read the other 4-letter word. For our area, the 1″ of *snow* turned out to be a half inch of sleet. March — an impractical joker.
You got the brunt of it. We were south to the line. We got a faint dusting followed by rain. March in New England…love it or leave it.
Yep, Lou — it’s the other March Madness! When I weigh it against more temperate southern spots to move to, I’m still in favor of NE’s fewer sharks, no poisonous snakes, *palmetto* bugs (and it IS the humidity), so I would die down south from any of those, but I DO think about it.😉
Nicely done!
thank you.
Snow? [Checks calendar.]
We do get snow in New England in March. Thankfully, in my area, it doesn’t last or stay around long.