Oh No April Snow

Well, a pretty spring post this is not. Out of nowhere, and I mean that with all sincerity, a freak snowfall blanketed Chickadee Gardens with over 8" of wet, heavy, crummy snow on April 11. You read that right, mid-April. Another weather record; not one to celebrate. I have no memory of any snow at all in April in my lifetime.

From Oregon Public Broadcasting's website about the Portland area (we're north in Saint Helens and were hit much harder): For the first time in almost 120 years, downtown Portland saw a measurable amount of snow in mid-April. The last time snow stuck to the ground in the downtown area this late in the year was in 1903, when snow was recorded on April 10, according to the National Weather Service.

“It’s not normal,” said meteorologist Colby Neuman. “We have seen snow in April in downtown Portland, but never this much this late in April.”

Approximately 1.6 inches, more in some areas, was recorded around Portland. The snow melted in the afternoon Monday, as temperatures rose.

We had significantly more than the 1.6 inches that Portland saw and there is still snow on the ground here as I write this.

Facilities Manager took this photo at 6 am three days ago (April 11). All told over eight inches. Snow flurries continued through Wednesday, though the accumulation was mainly very early Monday morning.

I was too heartbroken, honestly, to take photographs Monday and Tuesday. FM woke me early Monday morning with a warning not to be too shocked. I went back to sleep for a while, burying my head in the pillow. When I finally did make it outside, FM had dutifully been knocking heavy wet snow off of as many trees and shrubs as he could. I followed, trying to save hebes, for example, that were a mere bump of white, flat on the ground. Ugly tears ensued. This late in the year when plants are actively growing and leaves on trees make them heavier than without, snow is not welcome. I've never seen this much damage in my own garden. As I uncovered shrub after shrub I saw many branches broken off. Two large Ceanothus 'Italian Skies', which are each about 8' tall, were reduced to about a 3' height with most branches on the ground. Heavy pruning soon to follow.  

I went around today, Wednesday, taking a few photos of some of the obvious aftermath. Long-term observation will likely reveal consequences of continuous environmental stress that has been slamming the garden regularly for a few years now. Pictured here are branches from a redbud that snapped off. We lost large limbs off of maples, both native and Japanese, Oregon white oaks, an entire cascara tree (which is a shame because this native tree is a favorite for pollinators), lots of Douglas fir branches and pinecones, dogwoods, the list goes on.

 

We have many wild filbert or hazelnut trees in our wooded hedgerows, many of which snapped. FM chain-sawed them down and will save them for future farm projects.

The snow is gone but many shrubs are tipped over. Not necessarily out of the ground at the roots, but the weight of the snow bent the branches . They may right themselves in time but I have my doubts.

A Myrica californica split down the middle.

A wider shot. It was the weight of extremely wet, heavy snow that caused all this damage. Had it been powdery, it would not have accumulated on plants' surfaces as much as it did, sticking like cake batter on every surface, smothering plants, often flat to the ground.

A collection of branches in the graveyard.

Two of three Cupressus macrocarpa have been topped.

More graveyard area where Facilities Manager has been gathering broken tree limbs.

Rhamnus alaternus 'Variegata' had a rough go from February snow and was starting to right itself. Now I fear this is a permanent state. I'll have to prune some of the branches in the way of paths, but I would rather not have to prune anything.

One of a few loads of debris FM hauled away. He's my super-hero, and his back and heating pad are evidence of his hard work. The cleanup will continue for at least a couple of weeks. I honestly couldn't have gotten through the last few days without his support and love.

(FM: I admit that I chuckled when I rolled out of bed on Monday morning. Wow, look at all of that snow! And I took the first picture of the snow-covered chairs. Then I walked out to release the hens and turkey to their yard and I found the plants and trees plastered by that thick snow. Not good, I said to the poultry. Gonna be a long day, and so it was. After the initial shock, Tamara rebounded like the feisty human that she is, and we met our challenge together. Even the cats gave us extra rubs and loud purrs.) 

Truth be told, I think most perennials will be okay. It is not as bad as I had initially believed on Monday (but the jury's still out for long-term damage), we will be fine. It is the woody evergreen shrubs that suffered most, next to deciduous trees. We lost an entire lilac tree, which was in full bloom. There will be holes in the garden this summer. I think many Salvia officinalis are gone as they were struggling to begin with and many hebes have big chunks that have broken off. Some will rebound, others will show signs of decline and others will just die. It's the reality we live in. 

At one point on Monday I cried to FM that I want to sell the whole lot and move. I can't take this heartache every six months year in and year out. I think I kind of snapped. But to put it in perspective, we are not being bombed nor living in subways, we have food and a roof over our heads and each other. So, we garden onward another day. For now. Many friends in the area had similar if not worse damage, not that it's a contest - it's just sad and my heart goes out to all gardeners who experience such extremes. I suppose the lesson in all of this for me is to appreciate every moment. Cliché, yes, but that view out of your window you love looking at each day at breakfast - that could be gone tomorrow. Hug your loved ones, be good to one another. Stop polluting and start thinking about reusing what we have instead of generating more plastic crap to fill another landfill and pollute our waters.

That's a wrap for this week at Chickadee Gardens. Thank you for reading and commenting, we do love being connected to the gardening world. Please, we're not fishing for pity, merely sharing the reality of gardening and its challenges. Empathy is always welcome - but we have it pretty good after all. I know you all understand.