This post is for my friends and fellow gardeners on the East Coast and elsewhere who were hit by big weather over the weekend. These storms really are events now, as the media element has gotten much more prominent. Named and enthusiastically reported blizzards are here to stay.
As I view the pictures from New York, Washington, Philadelphia, and points south, north, and west, they look all too familiar. As of today, we haven’t had anything that would deserve to be called a blizzard here in Buffalo. Yet. It’s early days, winter-wise, and snowstorms will be in the mix through March. I actually hope we do have at least one big one; I love being snowed in. So do plants. We’ve had a nice light blanket (about 6 inches) since just after the holidays; if all goes well, it will stay and deepen. There is no better protection against frost heave and winterkill; the moisture is also welcome. Not to mention that I’ll take a big snow event over a tornado, hurricane, tsunami, or wildfire any day.
One of the best thing I’ve read about the storm came from an exBuffalonian writing in the New York Times. After telling some Buffalo storm stories (I was here for all of them), he comments:
one doesn’t pretend to do battle against a blizzard. You submit. Surrender. Hunker down. A snowstorm rewards indolence and punishes the go-getters, which is only one of the many reasons it’s the best natural disaster there is.
And also this:
Like war, illness and poker, snow ruthlessly reveals true character.
And, gloriously if briefly, it hides everything else — the plastic grocery bags and mini-marts and dog poop and salt-grimed Toyotas and sundry disorder of modernity. Watching the quotidian American crudscape transform into a fairy-tale kingdom is a legitimate wonder. Name another disaster that leaves the afflicted region more attractive in its wake.
Sadly, there have been deaths as a result of this blizzard, just as there were for many of the Buffalo events. Too many of them came about because people did things they really didn’t need to do in such weather. My advice: enjoy the enforced time off. Don’t try to travel. Only shovel what you really have to, and, if you do, push the snow, don’t lift it, and do it in easy stages. Cook a great meal. Enjoy a glass of port by the fire.
My favorite part is that when all points of “winter interest” outside except trees have completely disappeared, I am surrounded by blooming plants inside. Make sure you have plenty of those.