February 25, 2021
You might have heard about a little snowstorm that happened in Texas last week. If you experienced it, you might still be reeling a little — or a lot, depending on whether you were one of the 4.5 million residents whose power and heat were cut off by the state to save the failing electric grid. Huge swaths of paying customers were sacrificed, leaving them to shiver in the cold and dark for days, in many cases leading to frozen and busted pipes (Texas houses are not well insulated against cold) and then to flooded interiors when the thaw finally came.
For 6 days straight, Austin’s high temperatures didn’t rise above freezing, and for several nights they dipped to the single digits — at its lowest, a jaw-dropping 5 F. Early on, before the deep cold arrived, ice coated and broke trees. Then nearly 6-1/2 inches of snow blanketed the city, the biggest snowfall since 1949. After that, more sleet fell, and icy roads and pavement became treacherous for a state without fleets of snowplows and residents without snow shovels.
Those whose power had been cut were told that the blackout would be temporary, part of a rolling system of outages shared across the city to preserve the power grid. But for 40% of Austin, the outages didn’t roll. The power suddenly went out, and it just didn’t come back on — for days. Those who’d prepared for the storm by stocking their refrigerators tried to keep food from spoiling in snow-stuffed coolers, and many were unable to cook unless they had gas stoves. Told the outages would be temporary, many people stayed put while the roads were passable, only to make a run for a hotel or a friend’s house (coronavirus be damned) after roads had iced up, as it became clear power would not be restored quickly.
Several days in, water treatment plants began suffering loss of pressure, and many neighborhoods had their water cut off by the city. Soon the entire city was advised to boil tap water before drinking it — all while many people had no means to boil water without electricity, assuming they had any water to boil. The boil-water notice was just lifted a couple of days ago.
We were lucky not to lose water pressure, and we have a gas stove and gas-log fireplace. But our power was cut early Monday morning and stayed off for 3 days. Temps in the house quickly dropped into the 40s, up to 52 F by the fireplace. I wore a wool coat plus two layers day and night. We have friends and neighbors who toughed it out in 30-something temps in their homes. As the outages dragged on, housebound neighbors rallied together, sharing buckets of water to enable toilet flushing, offering hot cups of coffee, and providing moral support.
The snow and ice finally melted away last Friday and Saturday, and as our yards were revealed, plants looked surprisingly green at first. But over the past week, Austin’s normally evergreen flora have steadily turned caramel-colored. Succulents lie in mushy heaps like beached jellyfish. Gardeners all over Texas are wondering what will come back and what to write off as a loss. Only time will tell, and it’s going to require a lot of patience to let the plants show us the final verdict.
But pictures can tell the tale better than words…
Day 5 – Feb. 15: A winter wonderland
The Arctic’s unwelcome visit started on Thursday the 12th, with an icy rain that froze to tree branches. I saw a neighbor’s live oak crack under the weight and fall through their fence that day. On Friday a huge limb broke off one of our live oaks, thankfully landing on grass next door. Saturday and Sunday were just cold.
And then it got really cold — down to 10 F — as 6 inches of snow fell overnight. We went to bed in a rapidly chilling house, with power cut at 2 am Monday, and woke to a sight many Austinites had never seen before: snow blanketing everything, and not melting away as the sun rose.
It was wondrous, like Christmas carol imagery brought to life in a Southern climate.
Still, the cold was surprising. 10 degrees! I tromped around in sneakers, without gloves, taking pictures until my hands hurt from the cold.
Untouched snow on the driveway. How our kids would have loved this as children!
Bamboo muhly, silver Mediterranean fan palm, rosemary, Jerusalem sage, and ‘Old Mexico’ prickly pear weighed down by snow. All of these plants would take a big hit from the deep freeze.
Whale’s tongue agave’s broad leaves cupping scoops of snow
Venturing into the back garden, I marveled over frosted stucco walls and live oaks.
Squid agave’s tentacled arms were frosted white.
No sitting today
The pool crisply outlined with snow — a pretty picture
‘Tiny Fern’ bamboo bent over with cotton balls of snow
The blue wall, snow-capped. The bulbine in the low planter and artichoke agave on top would be killed by the deep freeze.
Cosmo shouldering his way through the snow. He’s a winter-loving dog. We often had to beg him to come back inside.
Fluffy Adirondacks
Looking back across the pool
The ‘Winter Gem’ boxwoods splayed out under snow and sleet later, and I went out with a broom to knock it off. True to their name, they’ve held up extremely well. In the center, a potted whale’s tongue agave survived under a couple of sheets I threw on as last-minute protection.
In the center-right you can see two large broken branches hanging from the tree-sized ligustrums in the greenbelt behind our fence.
‘Winter Gem’ boxwood and paleleaf yucca (Y. pallida), another survivor.
Blue bottle trees wearing little white caps
The lumps in front of the steel agave are potted ‘Color Guard’ yuccas. I threw sheets over this whole bed because of all the baby plants in it, and it helped.
Yucca rostrata drooped alarmingly with ice and snow, but it sprang back to life after the melt. Same with the ‘Blue Ice’ Arizona cypress behind it.
Snow-laden branches of Arizona cypress
Day 8 – Feb. 18: Icy and dangerous
The winter-wonderland phase was short-lived, with no warm, cozy house to come inside to. And after more sleet turned the snow treacherously slippery, I avoided all the stairs in our hilly backyard and pretty much just parked myself in front of the fireplace except to cook a hot dinner each night on the gas cooktop. Spaghetti, grilled cheese sandwiches, and hot chocolate were our comfort foods.
I took few photos during the endurance phase.
This photo pretty much sums up my mood by midweek last week.
Day 9 – Feb. 19: Melting begins
Finally by Friday temps climbed into the low 40s, and the melt began. ‘Green Goblet’ agave was already starting to droop.
The pool surface was still frozen.
And we had only a narrow path scraped clear on the deck.
The garden began to emerge, and it wasn’t looking pretty, though plants were still green.
‘Old Mexico’ prickly pear fruit “bleeding out” across the snow
Sad rosemary and silver Mediterranean fan palm
In the shade, ice hung on for a couple more days.
Day 10 – Feb. 20: Evaluating damage and survivors
So what lived and what died? I’ve been getting a lot of questions about the prospects for various plants, and I have them too. I just don’t have experience gardening in such prolonged low temperatures. Our plants are heat and drought survivors. They have to take a month or more of 100-degree days in stride. 5 degrees too? That’s asking a lot of these poor plants.
Native plants, of course, have the best shot at surviving winter extremes, although this was not a typical extreme, oxymoronic as that sounds. I’ve written a post about how to prepare a garden for a deep freeze in central Texas — and a lot of that just doesn’t apply during a once-in-a-generation event like this.
Longtime gardening experts in Texas like Greg Grant and Neil Sperry advise patience, leaving browned shrubs and trees alone for a few months to see if new growth appears, either on the stems or from the roots. If not, then remove them. Squishy foliage on succulents like agaves and giant leopard plant should be removed. Leopard plant will come back from the roots, I think. Agaves that are droopy and soft are toast. Leave somewhat tender plants like golden thryallis, Mexican honeysuckle, and esperanza alone until after our average last freeze date (March 1) as protection in case we get cold again.
5 days post-freeze – Feb. 24: How much green is left?
Now that we’re nearly a week post-melt, how do things look in Austin gardens, and in my garden in particular? It’s a mixed bag. I’d say caramel is a dominant color all over town. But some pockets of my garden held up well, like the dry garden by the front door. Even containerized and unprotected, ‘Frazzle Dazzle’ dyckia, whale’s tongue agave, toothless sotol, and red yucca look good. The dwarf myrtle is browning a bit, but I think it’ll make it.
Hooray for sedges! ‘Sparkler’ sedge, ‘Everillo’ sedge, Berkeley sedge, and Leavenworth’s sedge (aka lawn sedge from Barton Springs Nursery) did very well, most emerging completely unfazed. I have a lot of containerized ‘Sparkler’ sedge, and some stems are getting a little straw-like, but most will live, I hope. ‘Soft Caress’ mahonia, in back, completely burned. I don’t know if it will live.
Lawn sedge (Carex leavenworthii) with ‘Everillo’ sedge at left — nice and green. There’s a whole lotta brown in the background though.
Not surprisingly, semi-tender plants like variegated flax lily, Mexican honeysuckle, bamboo muhly, and (who knew?) Chinese mahonia look like a fire swept through.
I hope Chinese mahonia will re-leaf, but it may take time.
Giant leopard plant (Farfugium japonicum ‘Gigantea’) is hardy to zone 7, so I hope it will come back from the roots. I need to cut off the mushy leaves.
Native dwarf palmetto (Sabal minor) looks as good as before the freeze, which is a relief because it’s so slow-growing.
Native prickly pear (Opuntia cacanapa ‘Ellisiana’) collapsed, but I feel certain it’ll regrow from the roots. Texas sotol (Dasylirion texana) was completely unfazed. Golden thryallis is brown, and I’m just going to wait and see.
This is my saddest bed, and all my passing neighbors feel sorry for me when they see it. I’d just posted about this area, how pleased I was with it after 11 years of slow growth through heat, drought, and deer. The hubris! Mother Nature promptly knocked it down.
The whale’s tongue agave looks good still. Otherwise, all may be lost, although of course I’ll give it time to surprise me.
Ghost plants: My prized and very slow-growing silver Mediterranean fan palm, rosemary, and Jerusalem sage
Beneath bleached bamboo muhly (I hope it may live), spaghetti-like leaves of Lindheimer nolina look good as new.
The main part of the front garden looks fairly green thanks to the sedge lawn, although I think the ‘Margaritaville’ yuccas in it are squishy and dead. In the foreground, Texas nolina, paleleaf yucca, and lamb’s ear are fine.
This side isn’t so different from a “normal” deep freeze.
But it’s a shock to see autumn sage all brown.
Wide-leaf giant hesperaloe (Hesperaloe funifera ssp. chiangii) — no problems
Good old sedge
Another big Mediterranean fan palm, bleached and sad. Tony Avent at Plant Delights Nursery suggests it may resprout. Does that mean from the base, I wonder, or along the trunk?
Giving a big middle finger to the universe. ‘Green Goblet’ agave, you who are about to die, I salute you!
Of all my whale’s tongue agaves, this in-ground one looks the worst, with major freeze damage. I’ll probably end up removing it, as the leaves will not recover. I also lost containerized ‘Quadricolor’ and artichoke agaves and some squid agaves.
Badness: Foxtail fern, firecracker fern, and an iffy squid agave in the tall pot. The ‘Monterrey Frost’ squid agave in the foreground, underplanted with ‘Blue Spruce’ sedum, may survive.
‘Alphonse Karr’ bamboo, looking more bleached by the day. The ‘Bright Edge’ yuccas in front are winners.
A big squid agave doing a Dali’s clock impression
The persistence of memory
I threw a sheet over this new bed, including the variegated whale’s tongue agave, and it looks OK. The agave survived, even in a pot. And the tender foxtail ferns got burned but lived. Small victories!
How’s your garden looking, my fellow Texans? Feel free to mourn your losses if you want. We all need time to grieve before moving on. Sympathetic readers from afar, yes, yes, it’s an opportunity and all that, we know, but it’s also a financial loss and a sense of lost time. We’ll be ready to start planting again soon enough. And to all who sent notes of concern and well wishes, thank you! They were much appreciated.
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Digging Deeper: News and Upcoming Events
New to central Texas? Learn about native Texas plants and gardening tips in “Gardening for Newcomers,” a virtual class at the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center on March 6, from 9 to 11 am. Cost is $35, with a discount offered for members of the garden.
Join the mailing list for Garden Spark! Hungry to learn about garden design from the experts? I’m hosting a series of talks by inspiring garden designers, landscape architects, and authors a few times a year in Austin. (While in-person talks are currently on hiatus due to the pandemic, I plan to resume again as soon as possible.) Talks are limited-attendance events that sell out quickly, so join the Garden Spark email list to be notified in advance. Simply click this link and ask to be added.
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