In spite of near-by Lake Tahoe’s recent headline making snowpack, some of my Midwest friends from adolescence think of Nevada still as a warm desert climate state. ‘How nice it must be to live somewhere warm’ and all. It’s sometimes met with surprise when I point out that in Reno where I live that is SO not so.
“We’ve been buried in snow since New Years,” I claim. “Whaaaat, really?” they say.
Yes, really.
In fact, our typical four-season climate is rather curiously and somewhat alarmingly presenting lately like an only-two-season climate: hot-as-hades-and-on-fire season and cold-as-a-witches-you-know-what-buried-in-snow season.
How quickly do our ninety degree September days shift into our first snowstorm of the season? Very. And far how into springtime does it take for Real Spring, not “Fake Spring” —that one time in March where the temperatures hovered near 70– to show up and stick around? Very far, unfortunately. Though I’ll admit my inner skier is not really inclined to complain much about that.
It just seems that “the weather” that old stand by conversational ice-breaker such as it is has now actually become something a bit more exciting to mull over and discuss with fellow Northern Nevadans. It’s definitely not a boring topic, Mother Nature has really been keeping things interesting lately!
This leads me to my current predicament where my normally relaxing and meditative hobby of gardening has morphed into a bit of a ballooning source of anxiety for me. Had they been attentively tuned into my yard activities late last summer I am sure my neighbors would have thought me quite neurotic— hauling numerous hefty pots in (PM) and out (AM) of my home each day the temperature hinted at a frost, chastising myself bitterly if one night I forgot and went to bed without tending to this chore.
It was exhausting.
And then of course because of this extra neurotic care my plants do not die when they are supposed to—they thrivvvve all year round prompting me to create a “greenhouse” refuge in my college daughter’s old bedroom. Is she thrilled her old room is now home to about sixteen plants, lots of leaf debris and a few pesky gnats? Probably not, but she’s too nice to her kooky ol’ momma to discourage me from my obsessive pursuits.
My other related obsession is my outdoor summer vegetable garden. The gambling spirit in Northern Nevada extends far beyond the casino floors straight into our own backyards— literally. Unlike some other planting or hardiness zones our 7A in Northern Nevada is a rather dicey one to figure out. And even when you think you’ve got it down— last frost April 15th, first frost October 15– you can always count on being surprised by unexpected snowfall even as early as September and as late as May.
I just planted six pea starters and two types of numerous kale starts into my raised bed yesterday, in my mind cursing out each random gust of high-speed wind that seemed intent on flattening my tender plants before they even had a chance to get rooted. I even caught myself shooting a withering glare skyward while saying under my breath “Eff Off wind!” Oh, okay Crazy as you wish. And hours later of course I woke up in the middle of the night to resume obsessing about baby plants freezing and dying.
See? It’s a problem.
All I can do now is hope for the best until we are in the clear…which in Northern Nevada really is anyone’s guess until early June. Until then I will gingerly begin planting the rest of my garden—those less cold tolerant tomatoes, squashes and cucumbers and be thankful gardening is just a hobby and that my livelihood does not in any way depend on the outcome.
Anxious green thumbs crossed for a good gardening season to all!
