Crop Comments: Wee Hours Thunder-Boomer May Start Growing Season

Ten days after spring 2026 started, a serious electric storm hit our part of Central New York. During the early pre-dawn, lightning bolts struck (fortunately not too close to us). This electric storm was caused by the southern branch of the northern jet stream surging northward. In such an event, a warmer, moisture-laden air mass slammed into a drier, colder air mass that had originated farther north. This merger caused huge amounts of condensation, and similarly great electrical activity, plus rapidly dropping air temperatures.

Here’s the climate significance of this electric storm occurring March 31: Precisely one-half year later, the jet stream is supposed to do the exact opposite, allowing a frigid air mass to plunge into our region. That said, we should experience a killer frost on/about Sept. 30.

Scientifically, here’s the basis for this first autumn frost forecast: the climatological factor overseeing this weather anomaly is the jet stream polar drift rule. This rule states that the first springtime electrical storm (in latitudes near the 45th parallel, halfway between the equator and the North Pole) will be followed six months later by autumn’s first killer frost.

That’s how the jet stream phenomenon is supposed to play out, unless El Niño and La Niña “misbehave.” El Niño occurs when Pacific Sea surface temperature (PSST) rises by more than 2.7º F above normal for that particular time of year. La Niña occurs when the PSST drops by more than 2.7º below normal for that time of year.

With the current climatological tug-of-war between the two being unusually raucous, I’m not comfortable making the six-month projected forecast. This lack of comfort has happened just a few times since I started making these predictions back in the early ‘90s. This is another one of those rare times. Here’s why: Yale University climatologists (at yaleclimateconnections.org) wrote that a powerhouse El Niño event appears to be brewing for 2026-27. Climatologist Jeff Masters, Ph.D., wrote that triplet storms straddling the equator could help such climate orneriness become reality. On April 5, 2026, he wrote, “Three tropical cyclones are expected to flank the equator in the western Pacific by late this week – two in the Southern Hemisphere and one in the Northern Hemisphere. Twin tropical cyclones forming on either side of the equator typically happen once or twice a year, but seeing triplets is quite unusual. In this case, one (Tropical Cyclone Maila) is already at Category 2 strength and is unusually close to the equator, raising the risk of colossal rains and flooding in some places that seldom or never see tropical cyclones.”

Masters explained that the other Southern Hemisphere storm, located well to the southeast of Maila, Cyclone Vaianu, is also a Cat 2 and was predicted to peak as a major Cat 3 storm by April 7. In the Northern Hemisphere, a large tropical disturbance called Invest 90W, located north of Maila, was predicted to become Tropical Storm Sinlaku by late last week, potentially threatening Guam and the Northern Mariana Islands, according to Monday morning forecasts.

Quoting him directly, “These three cyclones will provide an extra nudge for what’s already one of the strongest ‘embryonic’ set-ups for El Niño that some longtime researchers have ever observed. The El Niño and La Niña patterns in the tropical Pacific influence weather across the world.”

Setting my first fall frost forecast aside for this season, let me state that the dynamic between El Niño and La Niña is framed by climate change (which is intensified by the build-up of atmospheric gases like carbon dioxide and methane). Increasing global surface temperatures, more droughts and intensified storms become more likely. With few exceptions, atmospheric scientists examining the bigger picture believe that the following are examples of increasingly unbridled climate change.

In 2022, most of the Mississippi Basin (all three rivers) was very dehydrated, which seriously compromised river traffic. In 2023, hurricane season was unusually problematic. And in 2025, Los Angeles spent most of the year recovering from the worst wildfires that it (or any other U.S. city) had ever experienced. More water evaporating into the atmosphere becomes fuel for more powerful storms developing. More heat in the atmosphere and warmer ocean surface temperatures lead to increased wind speeds in tropical storms. Rising sea levels invade higher land mass locations which, up till the present, hadn’t been subjected to the erosive forces of waves and currents.

The fact that most of the Northeast got an electric storm on March 31 didn’t mean that we should expect no more springtime frost. In fact, it was below freezing and snowing on this Tuesday as I’m writing this column.

Let’s examine another sign of spring awakening, namely shad blossoms. Their full-bloom status (when it arrives) means that it’s time to get the cold-tolerant crop seed into the ground, if growers haven’t already done so. As I write, no local shad trees are approaching full bloom (or even half-bloom) status. If the ground is dry enough for light tillage to kick loose some dust, shad blossoms tell growers it’s time to plant perennial forages, accompanied by their spring small grain nurse crops.

According to University of Vermont Extension agronomists, spring-planted cereal rye won’t set seed and produce grain, but it can be a valuable forage crop. These scientists recommend that folks needing high quality, rapid growing roughage (either mouth or mechanically harvested) should plant this annual grain ASAP. Cereal rye seed germinates with soil and air temperatures in the 33º – 41º range.

Due to its extensive, fibrous root system (which can grow down at least three feet), cereal rye is drought-tolerant, requiring 20% – 30% less water than wheat. In terms of frost tolerance, it is also hardier than wheat and doesn’t need as much fertilizer as corn. But when grazing such rye, ruminants tend to need more supplemental magnesium, an element often deficient in small grain forages.

by Paris Reidhead