Today’s post isn’t so much a rant as it is a whine. Pacific Northwest gardeners have raised whining about the weather to a high art. Ours is a seasonal lamentation second only to complaining when summer turns too warm. Call us delicate snowflakes – which brings up yet another weather-related weak spot – we simply want what the rest of you have. Well, not the hurricanes or tornadoes – you can keep those. Not the wicked humidity or epic cold, that would be unthinkable to endure. Still, would it kill the weather gods to grant us a bit of warmth? Nearly all of my very special zinnia seedlings succumbed to recent cold weather and I’m not happy about it. Oh, how I was looking forward to those remarkable unicorn pastels introduced by Floret Farm (who graciously gifted me the seed).
Just look at those colors.
I carefully sowed the seed in trays under lights in my garden room. Germination was extraordinarily swift and strong — my excitement grew. I fussed over the seedlings, kept them well hydrated, and ruffled the young plants with my hand to stiffen their spine. I was raising my best botanical youngsters.
We had a stretch of warm weather in early May, the seedlings were hardened off and ready to take their place on the garden’s stage. Then I fell and broke my elbow. I’ve since discovered that life is nearly impossible to navigate without my left arm (and I’m right-handed!) Sure, I worried about deadlines and practical day-to-day living, but mostly I fussed over my zinnias, waiting in the wings and ready to transplant.
Thankfully, after hearing me lament (okay, whine) about my dilemma, my dear friend Debra stopped by one afternoon and transplanted my seedlings into the garden; fortunately, the bed was already prepped and ready. Deb is the founder of the Slow Flowers Society, a community dedicated to supporting American grown flowers, the good farmers who grow them, and gifted designers who celebrate local, seasonal blooms. I felt supported and loved by a fellow flower lover who shares my fascination with backyard blooms.
However, in my excitement to get the plants into the garden I failed to consider that May can be a fickle in a Pacific Northwest garden. Warm and balmy one day, chilly and cold the next. Come to think of it, that’s pretty much how June rolls too. Now, it’s true that the past couple of years have proven to be an exception with unseasonably warm weather and an early summer, even a dastardly heat-dome event that saw the mercury rise to 107 in late June. *sigh* more whining, lots more whining.
The following weeks were colder and wetter than the typically cool days of what was once “normal” for this far northwest corner of the country. Distracted by navigating life with one arm, I didn’t give much thought to how my heat-loving transplants were faring. Spoiler alert: they weren’t. Even though the days grew longer – dusk at 9:30 these days – and gradually warmer, my young zinnias shriveled and crisped as their roots wasted away in the cold soil. After months of coddling, and even with heroic intervention, I was bereft at the loss of my very special plants. And believe me, I wasn’t shy about telling anyone who would listen.
Earlier in the spring I shared some of my Floret seed packets with a garden friend to add to her own purchases and she had produced a crop of robust zinnia seedlings in her swoon-inducing greenhouse. Driving past her house the other day and seeing her newly transplanted starts standing bravely in her front garden I had to stop and tell my sad story once again. She immediately offered me a flat of “extra” transplants that she couldn’t fit into her garden. I not going to lie, I kinda knew she would, all good gardeners are generous.
5 days later
Last weekend, once again I sowed the last of my precious seed under lights in the basement. As before, germination has been strong. Gardeners get used to starting over, beginning again. But my greatest yield of this choice crop has already come in and it looks like garden friends who share my love of growing who show up to help make that happen even when life, and bones, and chilly weather get in the way.
Lorene, so sorry to hear about your injury. Hope you are mending quickly. I have written many columns over the years that start out something like: “Are you feeling cranky? It’s the weather stupid.” We gardeners live and die by the weather of course and you would think we would know better than to plant zinnias out in the garden before July 4th. The same goes for tomatoes that gardeners insist on shoving into the cold damp soil in April only to have them turn purple and pout for the next 6 weeks. And don’t get me started on basil.
This spring has been especially difficult or so it seems with only a smattering of warm dry days and then back to the cold and wet shit. But alas, starting tomorrow (Tuesday) it is looking like we might actually get a string of warm days (OMG, it might even get into the 80’s which will trigger a whole other chorus of whiners). Gardening in the northwest is like riding a roller coaster, but I am preaching to the choir. Glad Deb could help you out, she is a sweetheart. Let me know if you need anything else. I have two good arms and elbows although they are both getting old and worn out. Cheers, Steve
Steve, it’s nothing shy of remarkable how PNW gardeners fall for the weather forecast every. damn. time. Although, fingers crossed that summer will actually arrive this week. Purple pouting tomatoes… it’s like you can see into my garden~ Gardening can be a trial but gardeners are the best! Lorene
Gardeners want all the things. I want my summer heat, your spring rains (and gorgeous foliage), California’s cool nights, Arizona’s dry days, Maine’s cool breezes…. I could go on. My zinnia are doing great, but the rest of the garden is parched. It’s just the way it rolls in the Mid-Atlantic, until it doesn’t. Good luck with this second batch of zinnia though – I’ve been planting late for a lot of fast-growing heat lovers lately, and it does make all the difference – here at least. – MW
I love your take on wanting it all! Exactly~
Lorene, your writing style is so wonderful! I took a group to Savannah / Charleston a few years ago. As we were having a guided tour at the Coastal Georgia Botanical Gardens, the head gardener casually mentioned snakes, mosquitoes, armadillo, poisonous spiders, no-see-ums, alligators, iguana, poison ivy, intense humidity, June beetles, and a few other semi-traumatizing things that are common in that part of the world. Hats off to anyone who gardens with those things – we have much less of all of those in the glorious Pacific NW.
Thank you for your kind words Lois. Honestly, as a PNW gardener I’m afraid I’m quite “soft” – I’d never even leave the house if I encountered even half of the critters on your list. But I love Savannah…
What a journey with those zinnias! It’s amazing how much love and effort you put into your garden. Your story shows the ups and downs of gardening, but also the beauty of community among fellow gardeners. Here’s hoping for warmer days and successful blooms ahead! Cheers!
I have hope for warmer days beginning today! Now let’s see how long I can last before I begin to complain about watering…
L
Gardeners can be such generous people. I totally understand the disappointment when something you have babied from the start doesn’t make it. We used to laugh at my father (a pilot) who checked the weather every morning before coffee. The laughs now on me as I am just as vigilant, maybe more so, about checking the day’s forecast. You can rant away at the unfairness of the weather but alas it doesn’t change anything.
Gardeners are always dancing with the weather. But, when it’s not breaking our hearts, I think it grounds us.
Hoping your injury has healed,when one part goes out it really throws us off! I just returned from a week in Portland for the Spring in June weather. Funny,my daughter is also so anxious for her tiny zinnia plants to grow. It sure was a beautiful site walking through the neighborhoods,felt like a botanical garden tour.
There’s a reason we call it “June-uary” Portland has so much natural beauty, to say nothing of a passionate gardening community.
Where I am in the PNW the weather has been quite volatile too, along with super high winds. I have not had much luck with the Floret Zinnas either, which could be attributed to my aversion to starting seeds indoors with much success, I suppose; however, after two tries and only a few seeds left from both packets, I have managed to keep about 10 plants alive outdoors under ag cloth for a couple weeks. I hope they settle in and do something, as this has been the most expensive experiment I’ve indulged in (a conservative, old fashioned gardener, I am). I hope you are on the mend and enjoying what you can in your garden.
I’d already forgotten about those bizarre winds~ The zinnia starts that my friend gave me are now snug in their beds and my second batch of seedlings are plugging along in the basement under lights. I fully expect to be rollicking in cut flowers by late summer
We have a saying here in Maine, I’m not sure where it originated…”if you don’t like the weather, wait a minute.”
We went from 70’s, dry and lovely last weekend, to 96, humid and glaring. Then back to 60’s and downpours this weekend. Rollercoaster indeed. Saying, “we needed the rain” does not console me when I see my peonies, baptisia and roses all bent over from the slashing deluges. Sigh. It’s always an adventure.
I hope your arm heals completely so you can get back out there to enjoy those zinnias.