To me Frost is a rouge artist. Like Banksy you never know when it will show up or what it will do. But, I like to be ready to enjoy its creations. Some mornings there is nary anything but on others it coats the whole land with stardust.
This faux snow is about as close as we in the deep south will get to a winter wonderland most years. In the low light of morning, I could already tell from looking out the window of our dining room that it was a good frost last night. 17F will do that.
I had a mission this morning to find Frost’s ultimate creation, frost flowers. These thin strips of white ribbons that form at the stem base of a few select species are one of winter’s most fascinating phenomena. Technically neither frost nor flowers, these ice formations arise when the air temperature is below freezing and the soil is moist but not frozen. Water in the stem freezes causing the epidermis along the stem to rupture, and the stem becomes a conduit pulling water from the roots for more liquid to grow the icy sheets. It’s transpiration interrupted and frozen.
Frost flowers are one of the most interesting exhibits in nature’s art gallery.
I climbed in my truck with camera in tow and made my way to an old gravel road near our house. Off in the distance maybe 100 feet ahead on the side of the bank I spied white. I kept my hope in check for what could have been a speck of trash, but the closer I got I knew it was frost flower on Verbesina virginica (frostweed). Oo de lally! And, not just one but many frost flowers were present this cold morning.
The artist Frost helps autumn meet winter.
I had spied these plants here last fall and even seen a few small frost flowers at the base. This morning seemed to be perfect for them to form the icy ribbons around the plants. I started having flashbacks. I read about frost flowers as a teenager, maybe fifteen years before I ever saw one. Then, I bought a Verbesina and planted it at school in the hopes of seeing some of the icy ribbons to mark seeing them off my bucket list. One cold January day one of my student apprentices Hunter came to me in a tizzy. The frostweed had blossomed with its crystal lattice overnight, and it was our first time seeing it. Thanks Frost for the bringing back those memories.
Frost flowers can’t be curated for long in the physical world, only in photographs and the mind.
I just adore seeing the ribbons and waves. They are delicate to the touch and will shatter at the slightest disturbance.
The sun eventually rose over the fencerows and shined on the icy cloak that wrapped the Verbesina stems. I collected some seed to get frostweed growing at my house in a spot where the sun hits early in the morning. That way I can appreciate these short-lived little miracles and have yet another canvas in my garden for Frost.
You’re a good artist, Frost. Keep up the good work.