We actually get over 300 days of sun each year, but the rumor still persists that Denver is a snow-bound cow town. I’ll cop to the cows, but the winters here aren’t like those back east or in the midwest.
Witness our Christmas eve afternoon diversion last year:
There are two aspects of our unpredictable weather that can confidently be predicted. One, fall arrives on the first day of September. Two, don’t plant anything before May 15.
I haven’t yet been prepared for the September cool down, even though it happens like clockwork. I am, however, very respectful of the May warm up. Unfortunately, I’m not the one who plants, and the person who does plant refuses to listen to my warnings.
Coloradans often cite Mother’s Day weekend as the time to plant, but I err on the side of caution. May 15 is safe. Any date prior to that may bring sleet, snow, or hail.
(It’s now hailing as I type.)
We both get spring fever every April. Mine manifests as a cleaning spree, but Kyle’s results in a trip to Lowe’s, where he buys potted flowers and tomato plants. Inevitably, the following week, this happens:
That picture was taken on April 30. The following Monday, he got up earlier than usual and grabbed his car keys.
“Where are you going so early?” I asked.
He looked sheepish. “Lowe’s?”
“Oh no, you’re not. How many tomato plants have you killed so far this year, three? May 15, dude. That’s when you can plant again.”
Of course he didn’t listen. This greeted us today:
But I expect the chances that this plant will survive are greater than the chance that Kyle will respect the May 15 rule in the future.