Rainy Day Healing

 

Making My Peace … with a false spring

 

I had hopes for less rain and warmer weather, but it turned out to be a false spring. Hopes dashed, sighs heaved, and shoulders dropped. Early March the weather looked promising when temperatures rose above normal, the wind died down, and buds began emerging from the soil. I knew spring was in the air.

But no … it wasn’t. I was fooled. Just as those little dormant seeds were! How do plants feel when they are tricked into emerging early only to be hailed upon a few days later. Yes, hail. Small pebbly hail hit my balcony plants like metallic pellets from a BB gun.

The false spring had no effect on native Parisians, just like native plants.  But ornamental or foreign plants, like me – an Australian in exile – are quite vulnerable to the sudden change of temperature and exhibit a rush of blood to the head in excitement and anticipation of a warm spring.

 

Unfortunately, Mother Nature can be severe. The premature opening of the little buds on my Winter-Flowering Honeysuckle bush – so nicely known as Sweet Breath of Spring – at least to me, of British stock – was in the biggest danger. Even though it flowers in winter, and is a harbinger of spring, it was vulnerable to dropping its little creamy-white flowers in the hazard of hail. I too am half-hardy.

 

 

The jonquils and daffodils had already bloomed – full bloom too. Three to four weeks early. I had even seen a draba sibirica – the Siberian Whitlow Grass – albeit in the Paris Botanical Garden.

People have the ability to adjust to changeable weather – we go to tropical regions in winter, get a tan, and come home to more cold weather. We are not irretrievably damaged. We have internal defenses. But we don’t like it – at least not the sun-worshippers, like me.

The false spring of 2021, here in France, affected almost all vineyards and the growers had such a difficult time keeping the frost at bay. They lit small fires between the rows of vines. That’s what I did too this year – I turned the heating back on.

Plant species that break dormancy faster than considered to be normal seem to be more susceptible to freezing events. I am susceptible to freezing events. Winter injuries in plants, such as snow mould and ice damage, are still problematic. As for me too.

 

 

Plants that have initiated budburst but have not fully leafed-out are more likely to sustain damage from a false spring than individuals past the leaf-out phase, said researchers at the University of Basel, Switzerland, in 2015 in their Functional Ecology paper called Convergence of leaf-out towards minimum risk of freeze damage in temperate trees. I did read it.

What to do?

Proper seasonal management practices are advised for horticulturists. Perhaps for me too. Fungicide, lawn preparation, and appropriate water drainage to avoid ice accumulation, are currently in experimental stages in the University of Minnesota. These specific stressors can even occur during clear to mostly sunny days during false springs, the UMN says. The staff are examining low temperature photo-inhibition and anthocyanin accumulation in twelve creeping bentgrass cultivars. To examine winterkill. They suggest that the natural form of protection is still useful, and covering with shade cloth is advised, but more research is needed to refine this potential management practice.

 

Making my peace with a false spring, I learned the following:

• To be aware of the false spring risk,
• To be aware of my own freeze event threshold,
• To take note of what the native Parisians are doing to weather a false spring,
• To light small fires between the rows of vines,
• To cover up,
• To keep warm,
• To keep dry,
• To eat anthocyanin-rich foods – red, purple, and blue-coloured fruits and vegetables, as well as nuts, and seeds,
• To indulge in my favourite fruit, the pomegranate,
• To sit in winter warmth because I don’t have an infra-red heat lamp, but to consider buying one for the next advent of a false spring.

 

Martina Nicolls: Rainy Day Healing – MAKING MY PEACE