Sunday, November 25, 2018

Climates, Microclimates, and Crab Apples


Weather: Except for Thursday and today, every morning’s low temperature was between 15 and 19.

Last useful snow: 11/12. Week’s low: 15 degrees F. Week’s high: 58 degrees F in the shade.

What’s still green: Leaves on area hybrid roses, Apache plumes, cliff roses, juniper, arborvitae, and other evergreens, red hot pokers, blue flax, hollyhocks, winecup and leather leaf globe mallows, beards tongues, snapdragon, golden spur columbine, bouncing Bess, pink evening primrose, vinca, coral bells, alfilerillo, Saint John’s wort, cat mint, violets, sweet pea, Queen Anne’s lace, alfalfa, Shasta daisy, chrysanthemum, coreopsis, blanket flowers, anthemis, white yarrow, dandelion, purple asters, June, needle and cheat grasses

What’s gray, gray-green, or blue green: Four-winged saltbush, buddleia, pinks, winterfat, snow-in-summer

Tasks: Another week spent inside looking out.

Animal sightings: Robin, other small birds


Weekly update: The weather bureau is a bit like the indifferent clerk in a returns department who tells you "climate is what you expect, weather is what you get." [1] And, no returns or exchanges are possible because you’ve already used what you were given.

We’re taught about the one in the simple ways children are taught. In Michigan, that meant I learned the to spell the word "temperate." Simultaneously, I learned to pull on leggings and boots in the winter, and changed to shorts and halters in summer. The one was an abstraction, the other part of daily life.

My trees behave like I did getting dressed to go outside. Instead of eyes, they sense changes in sunlight, temperature and water and alter their metabolic rates so less chlorophyll is produced. The green stuff is the nutrient the plant needs, and when it disappears, the tree sends other chemicals that protect it by sealing off the malfunctioning parts. When the seals are complete, the leaves fall.

Of course, that’s just a paradigm like climate. The reality is some trees either don’t process the signals properly or are genetically unable to. So, when we went from Indian Summer to sub-freezing temperatures in a week, some of my trees still had leaves that were killed by the effects of cold but weren’t prepared to drop.

Several weeks have passed since the shock of November 6. Many of my trees that had bundles of dead leaves have now dropped them, but not the cottonwood. I do think its internal communication systems have been slow to adapt to changing environmental conditions.

The other tree that still has its full complement of dead leaves is the red-leafed plum.

The red-leaved crab apple has managed to denude itself. It’s near the house, and in what I’m realizing is, to add a confusing term, a microclimate warmed by heat escaping from the drafty porch I keep warm with a space heater. Because the area gets some heat, the tree must have remained active enough to continue producing the ethylene necessary to dissolve the connection between the leaf and the branch.

Microclimates are neither climates nor weather because they created by humans. Many of the perennials that are still green are on that side of the house, but I’m not sure if its just the heat or their biogeographic heritages. Most are plants that came from colder environments: sweet peas, pink evening primroses, tansy, vinca, snapdragons, pinks, and snows-in-summer.

My other microclimate is on the northwest side of the garage when I planted the lily, daffodil, and tulip bulbs. Even though it gets afternoon sun, its not enough to warm the area. When I walked by yesterday the concrete block path still was covered with ice.

I’m not sure how birds respond to unexpected bursts of weather. Again, there is that discrepancy between their annual migration patterns and what’s scavenging seeds in my yard. The goldfinches usually spent some time here stripping the Maximilian sunflowers, but this year I only saw them one day.

I have a friend who feeds birds who tells me they haven’t been to his place in Santa Fé either. "Feed" is much a confusing term as "climate." "Cater" might be a better way to describe how he buys specific foodstuffs for birds he expects to stop in his yard. The thistle seed for the goldfinches remains untouched.

Yesterday, I looked out and saw some small birds in an area where I sometimes see chickadees and goldfinches. When I looked closer, they were neither: they had very dark, solid-colored heads and small brown bodies. Near them was a robin. Unmistakable and out of place.


Notes on photographs: Many mornings this week frost has settled on plants after dawn, then melted away. The first shows the tree outside my porch, with the shadows of its branches thrown on the screen. The second catches the light reflecting off the melting frost. The last shows the shining moisture through the shadows. Taken 23 November 2018.

End notes:
1. "What’s the Difference Between Weather and Climate." National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, National Centers for Environmental Information website.

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