Fifty two degrees can mean so many different things. I will start off by saying that for us here in Southern California, fifty-two degrees for a daytime high feels like the arctic (I am guessing). To us it was freezing, but many others around the country were pointing their fingers and laughing at our whining. How we experience temperature, on a very surface level, seems to be very relative. I lived in the Pacific Northwest for eight years and I know that fifty degrees can feel warm. But, after several days of these chilly daytime temps, I simply could not be outside for long periods of time. I was tired of the cold.

Now for plants, fifty-two degrees is fifty-two degrees. They are not leaning over to each other and complaining that they are chilly. And well, for humans, fifty-two degrees is fifty-two degrees on a physiological level. I would much rather be stranded in the mountains on a fifty degree day than a fifteen degree day.

Fifty two degree days meant very unusually cold nights. Nights I wasn’t prepared for. Nights that forced me to lay down good bed sheets, table cloths, and even a beach towel over the vegetable beds. Four nights to be exact. The sprinklers came on and encased everything is ice. This. Never. Happens. Until now.

Most everything survived, except the very sad-looking peppers and a good majority of the nasturtiums. The flowers may bounce back. There are hundreds of seeds in the ground that have yet to germinate.

Then, just when I thought I couldn’t take another cold, cold day, the sun started to feel warm again. This morning I opened my computer to do some blog reading and saw that one of my favorite bloggers is walking her dog in -22 degree (celsius) weather. And, I had to smile because that kind of cold weather is a relative experience too. But, seventy-five degrees? I think most of us could agree that is a gorgeous day. And, lucky for me, we have at least five of them ahead of us.