Weather is the day-to-day behavior of the atmosphere; climate is an averaging of all this behavior over long periods, even centuries. But there’ s a problem: the climate is changing. So we actually don’ t know what to expect. And the weather is presenting new behavior that lies outside of historical norms.
centuries. But there’ s a problem: the climate is changing. So we actually don’ t know what to expect. And the weather is presenting new behavior that lies outside of historical norms.
In June of last year, for example, an afternoon thunderstorm raged through our neighborhood, dumping well over an inch of rain in 25 minutes. The rate of precipitation was nearly three inches per hour, or ten times the rate defined by the National Weather Service as“ heavy rain.” With storm clouds approaching, I ran indoors and watched with amazement as spectacular lightning illuminated the cascade of driving rain. But I felt lucky. Rainfall in May and June was helping to lift us out of a persistent drought. Our vegetable crops at Sandy Spring Gardens were well beyond the seedling stage, and the foliage and extensive roots would hold the soil this time. The previous year we got an overnight deluge in spring, coming only a few hours after potato planting was done. The soil was loose and bare— and vulnerable to erosion from flooding rain.
One of our neighbors was not so lucky that June afternoon. Harewood Farmhouse, one of the treasured historic homes in our neighborhood dating back to the 1790s and for many years the home of U. S. Secretary of State Dean Acheson, was engulfed in flames and burned to the ground, presumably from a lightning strike.
Then in October of 2025 we saw frost on three successive Fridays. October 10 was a light frost, but on October 17 a hard frost killed more than a thousand squash and tomato plants. So now I’ m the farmer complaining about the weather! Because our official fall frost date is November 3, two weeks of lost production came just as we needed this last harvest to bring the books into the black for the year. But don’ t assume that an early fall frost refutes the theory of“ global warming.” Yes, the earth is warming; all the evidence confirms that. But the weather is becoming more erratic. That’ s the“ climate change” story disrupting farming now, not the projected one degree Fahrenheit increase in global average temperature and the three feet of sea level rise predicted for Maryland over the next half century.
For most farmers and gardeners in central Maryland, the tomato harvest has been disappointing for two years. We think of tomatoes as a warm-weather crop, but when nighttime temperatures are above 70F degrees, and the daytime highs are above 90, most varieties of tomatoes will suffer from poor pollination and reduced fruit set. That was the weather that settled in last season from the last week of June through most of July, with very high humidity. Weather experts tell us that nighttime temperatures are rising faster even than daytime highs, and while we may not notice, tomatoes are out in the field, suffering silently in the dark. August brought cooler nights, a welcome change, so we saw a sudden flush of ripe tomatoes in September.
Emily Sells rolls down a heavy rye-vetch cover-crop in May at Sandy Spring Gardens. This became the grown-in-place mulch for fall brassicas, including kale, collard greens, cabbage, broccoli, and cauliflower. The mulch retains moisture, provides all the needed fertility for the crop, and blocks weeds.
plenty I spring 2026 5