Last frost, in theory
Hello!
For heaven’s sake, the goldfinch have arrived! It must be spring by now, even if it might snow again. Like yellow popcorn, small flocks of them burst from the brush and long grasses on the borders of the lane to our house, escorting me along with their springy, bouncy flight.
This week brings us to a long-awaited day in any flower farmer or gardener’s calendar: the average last frost date of the season. In Canaan Valley, it falls on the 15th of May — this Friday. The week is marked with a big warm stripe of pink on my planting calendar, because this is the moment when, in principle, the odds finally improve for tender warm-weather crops to grow outdoors without frost damage. The date is based on historical climate data and a 30% probability of temperatures dropping to 32F or below. Notice all those caveats? My evening activities are still ruled by the weather apps.
This photo is what a flower farm looks like when the spring nights can still be cold. The winter adage that the brighter the stars, the colder the night, continues to apply at this transitional time. And when I test the limits with some early sunflower plantings and the sunny days spur the growth of overwintered flowers, even more hoops and frost cloth are called for. In fact, some plants are getting so tall I swapped hoops for longer fiberglass poles and the plants stretch the frost cloth tight – a bupleurum bouffant! (AKA the "baby's breath of Italy," the wiry stems of this chartreuse-green filler are already up to my knees and starting to form flowers! I can’t wait!)
Despite some frozen mornings, last weekend’s two wonderful WV Wildflower Pilgrimage outings were quite balmy. Most years, I am bundled up, damp, and feeling the chill as I make my woodland curtseys to the ladies’ slippers. Not this year. It was warm and sunny! I enjoyed a clamber on some of the Potomac Highlands ridges east of here to see columbines blooming red and yellow, and lingered over purple lupin flowers on a dry rocky slope.
I am one of those people who likes to know their Latin names. This is because I know their cultivated cousins well. Back in Canaan Valley, the Gallery lupins and Kirigami aquilegia I started from seed waited for this pilgrim’s return. Soon enough, they will be in the ground and blooming for us too.
Let there be flowers — and herbs!
Lizz