first published February 18, 2010

It’s rather perverse that while Vancouver cries for snow, we’re crying about the amount we have to contend with. Granted our grumbling is about grooming roads rather than grooming ski runs, but both predicaments got me thinking about the value of snow. While we all know snow is a critical factor at Olympic venues, let’s not forget it’s also critical to gardening on the Prairies.

Unfortunately, most of us tend to endure snow rather than value it, but those humble snowflakes contribute a lot to our gardens. On the Prairies, the insulating capacity of snow is possibly its most important attribute. Without that white blanket on our gardens, many perennials simply wouldn’t survive our variable-temperature winters. In other words, when it drops to the minus 40°C range and then rockets above the freezing mark, be thankful there’s snow keeping a lid on those rapid fluctuations. Not only does that protective blanket trap some of the geothermal warmth of the soil, it also prevents a deep penetration of cold air from reaching your plants. Needless to say, the thicker the cover the better.

Snow is also one of the reasons we’re able to grow out-of-zone plants on the central and northern Prairies. For example, gardeners who are able to grow marginally hardy grape varieties often owe that success to the abundance of snow covering their vines. In fact, a wide range of tender plants (such as hyacinths, garden chrysanthemums and, occasionally, even Easter lilies) can survive our winters thanks to deep snow. If you want to try your hand at growing some finicky plants, a flowerbed next your house foundation can be the perfect microclimate (a warmer, more sheltered spot within a growing zone) for them. Further enhance that microclimate by keeping the snow piled deep.

Snow is also great for slowing exuberant plants that tend to break dormancy in early spring. For example, whether or not you get fruit from plum or cherry trees is often determined by the weather conditions when they bloom. Obviously, the earlier they flower, the greater the odds of the blossoms succumbing to a killing spring frost. Invariably, frost-damaged flowers will fail to produce fruit. Snow piled around the base of fruit trees won’t stop bud break, but it can slow growth enough for the delicate flowers to miss the hardest frosts—by keeping the soil cold for a bit longer.

Of course, one thing we hate to see after the winter snow has all melted is another dumping. But keep in mind that a spring flurry is, undoubtedly, the best way to irrigate a newly seeded vegetable garden. Back in our market garden days, we knew a nice layer of snow on a freshly sown field of vegetables would virtually guarantee both near-perfect germination and seedling emergence. That’s because as snow melts, it slowly and uniformly seeps into the soil providing the ideal growing environment for seeds. Of course, the one rub was that spring flurries and cold temperatures inevitably came as a package deal. And although the cold didn’t bother the seeds, it wasn’t so great for plants.

Anyone who’s experienced a late spring snowstorm knows the kind of damage it can wreak on fully leafed-out trees. However, trees that are regularly and properly pruned can withstand heavier snow loads—don’t forget to put pruning on your to-do list. The simple rule of tree pruning is to do some each year. Generally, you should prune in late fall or early spring when trees and shrubs are dormant.

Still not convinced to love snow? Well then, maybe you just need to think of it as rain in disguise. With last fall being so desperately dry, this year’s snow is an especially valuable resource. Thirty centimeters of the fluffy stuff is roughly equivalent to 3 cm of rainfall, so mound it around your trees and shrubs. Just be sure never to shovel salt-contaminated snow onto your plants; it will do more harm than good.

So, as you shovel your walkway one more time or bump along your unplowed street, keep this in mind: whether for the Olympics or gardening—snow is the foundation for gold-medal performances.