Tale of Two Gardens: When a Freeze Becomes a Fresh Start

Zinnias, cosmos and marigold giving a show in Round Top

Living just 80 minutes apart, my Houston and Round Top gardens experienced the same January cold snap in dramatically different ways—and taught me an unexpected lesson about the gift of starting over.

The Great Cover Debate

When temperatures plummeted, I made a choice: cover the Houston garden, leave Round Top to face the freeze uncovered. The results were predictable but still striking. Houston stayed green and lush, with hearty herbs like oregano and rosemary barely noticing the cold. Meanwhile, Round Top? Completely gone. Even the kale showed frost damage—kale! The ultimate cold-weather survivor.

At first glance, one garden won and one lost. But here's where it gets interesting.

Houston garden just days after the freeze - full and green.

The Blank Canvas Advantage

While I was initially disappointed seeing Round Top wiped clean, I realized something: this wasn't a loss—it was liberation. Those herbs I'd been nursing along? They were getting woody and overgrown anyway. Basil that had gone to seed and dried brown, oregano sprawling into pathways, rosemary taking over more real estate than it deserved. All those plants I'd kept "just a bit longer" were suddenly, decisively gone.

And in their place? Possibility.

Sunnier days: March, when Fringe trees were blooming 

The Pause That Refreshes

There's something about a blank garden bed that makes you pause. No more hasty decisions about squeezing in "just one more transplant." No settling for whatever's available at the nursery that weekend. Instead, I've been savoring this moment—seed catalogs arriving with their glossy photos of heirloom tomatoes and cutting flowers, my coffee getting cold while I imagine rows of ranunculus and beds of unusual lettuce varieties.

This forced reset is giving me time to create an actual master plan. To research the varieties I've always wanted to try. To think strategically about succession planting and companion layouts. To grow my favorites with intention, not impulse.

Bright orange, extra large African Marigolds 

Two Gardens, One Lesson

So yes, my Houston garden looks beautiful right now, green and productive. But my Round Top garden? It's offering something even more valuable—a chance to pause, reimagine, and recreate.

Not to sound cliche, but sometimes the best thing a garden can do is teach you to start fresh. And sometimes the freeze that takes everything away is actually clearing space for a better version of what comes next.

Here's to blank canvases, glossy seed catalogs, and the gardens we'll grow with intention this spring!