"It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light and winter in the shade." Charles Dickens

Mushrooms growing in the rainy desert, May 2011
Little Sahara Recreation area in Utah.

(Written in November 2011)

The spring of 2011 was a soggy mess. Was I in Seattle or Salt Lake City? The rain was incessant, drumming its constant banter on my windows. I’ve come to believe it was a personal assault against my failure to properly fix my rain gutter in the back yard. The universe seemed to garner obscene pleasure in watching me do battle with the wicked stretch of metal. Stupid low spot, stupid rain gutter. That rain gutter knew I had no "man-card". I realize that April showers bring May flowers… but what do March, April, May and June showers bring?

March 8th, 2011

We “desert people” simply don’t know what to do with ourselves in that much rain and it makes the lot of us native folk a cantankerous miserable horde. Everywhere I went people were voicing the complaint that ran circles through my brain, “It’s raining… AGAIN? SERIOUSLY?” One of the eccentricities of Utah is that the weather is bipolar and irrational. Like a mischievous provocateur, the winter will suddenly break in late February, the sun will shine, the birds will sing, and eager Utahan’s will don shorts and flip flops for about 3 days.  And then, on the fourth day, a foot of snow will fall and a bone chilling wind will rage, and lady weather will laugh her ass off. She’s a terrible tease. We certainly don’t expect Spring in February, but when we get a taste of it, and then winter returns in full force, it tends to send people like me into unhinged tantrums reminiscent of a petulant child on a long road trip, “Is it spring yet? Is it spring YET? IS IT SPRING YET???” And with a heavy heart and tears in my eyes, "It's never going to be spring."

Black Tulip Magnolia tree in
March of 2011- frost bitten bloom.

May 2011.

So it began that my delphinium perennials began poking their sweet little heads through the frozen earth way too early. My poor black tulip magnolia tree buds froze solid and really did turn black (rather than the gorgeous deep aubergine they should be). At first I used water-walls to protect the delphiniums, but soon they were too big, and it was still snowing. So, I bought some clear storage totes and used those, turned upside-down to protect the deranged delphiniums. Didn’t they know this was the time for tough-as-nails bulbs to be growing? Not the delicate leafy perennials? Maybe this is normal, but I was quite worried about them. I was a new mama gardener and these were my babies, surviving their first harsh winter.

There seemed to be nothing I could do for the magnolia buds. If you have any ideas let me know because it’s sure to happen again. Maybe I’ll try some burlap. The tree itself survived just fine but I felt cheated out of its gorgeous annual display.

So, why am I writing about spring now... in November? Because I can't wait for the spring of 2012. Even with all the hot/cold crazy spring weather, my garden is at its most beautiful in the spring.

Beautiful deep pink flower bud just opening on my black
tulip magnolia tree in March... before it was killed by the frost.