Where the fuck is spring?
We're into the month of May here in the fine city of Boston. It's not that long ago that I can remember when we used to have a spring season in this city. This past April was horrific; it rained on 21 of the 30 days of the month. Fairly typical of this time of year, the warmest day was back on April 19 at 77 degrees, but less than a week ago on April 29...I was scraping frost off my car.
Back around Marathon Weekend, I travelled to Washington, DC with the scout troop. Arrival day was a fine day indeed - it was sunny and approaching 75 degrees. Coming from the tundra, I felt like a noob in my winter uniform and layers of fleece. But that is my point - I had to travel more than 400 miles south to find some relief.
I normally laugh at the weather. I still do, for the most part. Rain, or a blizzard, or even a harsh cold snap in the middle of the winter
are normal and expected things around here.
What does worry me is this. Next weekend is Mother's Day. For all of my life, that's been the traditional start of the gardening season in New England. When I started digging up my little patch here in Waltham, that's when I started. But I don't dare now - planting has slipped to Memorial Day for me.
It's frightening that the change has occurred in the last 15 years or so. Will we even still have a growing season here in another 15 years?