I don't take selfies as I don't even have a cell phone but this is where I sit at the edge of a cliff, taking pics on a night that is currently at -20 degrees Celsius and plummeting, to gloat over the risks that I am taking. Passersby inquire and some even shake their heads at my insanity. But seriously, with the right infrastructure and with some experience, I have found that there are simply different risks and efforts than summer growing.
The coldest nights of the year are euphoric and ceremonial, going outside in the crisp air with bags of my mother's plentiful woollen knitting to pile around the above ground worm composters and sheets of hand made felt from my workshop to add yet another layer on the low tunnels.
The wool moths with meet their fate and the added insulation will retain the gentle heat from the led lights and in-ground vermicomposters to keep most areas around freezing and just on the cusp of frost, as seen here.
Thank you mother nature, for the best and most beautiful insulation: snow.
I aim for outdoor winter growing to be as common place as flying, a practice once seen as dangerous and daring and now a commonplace way to get somewhere
(though I still prefer to keep my feet on the ground). The clients I have gotten going with this are hooked. They have a whole new view.