What Winter?

That's what we're asking ourselves in Northern Virginia.  The afternoon temperatures were in the 60's yesterday and are predicted to return today.

I hauled my bike out of mothballs and rode an hour yesterday along the Mt. Vernon trail.  The sunshine and mild temperatures enticed me out to see my shadow--not that it's been all that cold this December and January.  On the contrary, it has been unseasonably mild.  With a little winter gear, I could have ridden comfortably on at least 10 or 12 different days in the past couple of months--supposedly the "dead of Winter"--but (no excuses) lethargy kept me in hibernation.  Yesterday was warm for even this odd Winter, and I finally made it out the door for some exercise.  To give an idea of how warm:  at the turnaround point on my ride, near Roosevelt Island, I took off my long pants and pedaled home in my biking shorts.  I had to dodge joggers in shorts and t-shirts out enjoying the day.

The pansies in the photo taken this morning on our back deck (left; notice the bare branches in the background) have refused to give up this Winter despite quite a few nights in the mid 20's.   They tell the tale of this winter--many days the thermometer registers in the 50's.  Recently, in the morning when I take the dog for a walk, flocks of sparrows and the occasional cardinal perch in leafless trees, chirping away like Spring is just around the corner.  And maybe it is.  This morning I saw the first dove of the season, at least a month earlier that previous years.  The squirrels have been frantic since mid-December, scurrying about like they are getting ready for a picnic, instead of hibernating like they usually do.  The weather forecasters seem to think the La Nina system in the Pacific will keep colder weather north of us for the rest of the Winter.  So mild is the word.

Although, when you draw back and look at the bigger picture, as always there is another story to tell.  Talk to the snowbound residents of Valdez, Alaska, or eastern Europe.  Storms have piled over 16 feet of snow in Valdez already this Winter.  Snow removal equipment has been brought in to deal with overburdened roofs and to help dig pathways between the walls of ice and packed snow that cover the city.  Snow emergencies have been declared in Serbia, where elderly residents in remote villages are  without heat or electricity and temperatures have plummeted to -30º F.  This past week, skiers and travelers have been trapped in Austria, southern Germany, and the Swiss and French Alps after a "snowstorm of the century" dumped as much as 18 feet in those places as well.    The list goes on--just like any Winter, actually--to include massive snows in Pakistan, the Ukraine, Japan, and China.  Meanwhile,  farmers in the U. S. and Britain worry about a second consecutive year of drought.

Surprisingly, I haven't heard much squawking about global warming to accompany this unseasonal Winter.  But, I imagine it will make the news again any day now as the candidates look for something else to blame on their opponents.  That debate seems to dip and soar like the jet stream, a constant flow of denial or warning, depending on your point of view.  A little puff of information came almost unnoticed over the news waves this week to suggest that whether you believe in "global warming" or not, you had better prepare for some "climate change."

The US Department of Agriculture (USDA) has revised its plant hardiness map.  If you are a gardener, like me, you know that this is the time of year to check on where you reside on the hardiness zone map--to see which trees and shrubs, flowers and vegetables can be safely grown in your area.  You may do a double take when you see the new hardiness zones, as if the earth has titled a bit on its axis and thrown you off balance.  Didn't you used to reside in Zone 7?  But now you are on the southern edge of Zone 6 instead, which means you can finally plant a lemon tree like the one you remember in your backyard growing up as a kid in California--and expect it to survive the winter!  Or a hibiscus like the one that blossomed outside your hotel window in Florida, the year you went south for a week to avoid the (formerly) chilly north.

Although the official USDA map has not been released, preliminary announcements portray the warmer hardiness zones as creeping northward.  What that means for the area where I live is that flowers and other plants which you couldn't grow here 20 years ago are now safe to cultivate for a longer part of the growing season--or even year round.  The new demarcation for hardiness reflects the fact that average temperatures in many areas are now what you would have found 200 miles south of your present location.

A shift northward of warmer climate zones two hundred miles seems pretty significant to me.  I'll leave the debate for causes and consequences of this change to those better qualified to comment.  All I know is that this may be the year to finally try tuberous begonias in our hanging planter, with the confidence they will survive from early spring to late fall.