Weather report

[deborahjross]

It's been raining, more or less, for how-many days -- 4, I think. Looks like a brief break now, but still quite gray overhead. I saw a report that we got 14" -- hope so. We were around 1/3 our usual annual rainfall. This being California, if we don't get rain between November and May, that's it. We had a good wet winter last year, but it came after a long stretch of sub-normal rainfall (and water conservation measures in force). Despite winter sogginess, things dry out quite a lot in the summer, making fire danger a real threat. Redwoods don't burn easily, but Scotch broom goes up like torches. Broom is an invasive, hardy, import that crowds out native fire-resistant species. Responsible land owners keep their property cleared of the stuff, but all it takes is one lazy person or one stretch of inaccessible hillside to negate those efforts.

So back to the rain. It's been lovely to lie in bed and listen to the sound on the roof. Brings up many lovely memories as well.

The rain has warmed things up a bit, and it's feeling like winter is really over. A few stalks of asparagus have peeked above the soil and the rhubarb is waking up. davetrow prepared vegetable beds just before the storm hit and had to take out the kale-that-wouldn't-die. We still have a cluster or two of volunteer chard-that-wouldn't-die, but he left that. It had the sense to take root not-in-a-bed. The grapefruit harvest has slowed, although I think we still have another month or so, if the fruits don't mold from all the rain, their skins being softened by age.

Comments

[davetrow.livejournal.com]

And don't forget the hundreds of parsnips in the alley, the garlic, and the miner's lettuce, not to mention the arugula that bloomed all through winter. There's even a lonely potato plant.

To expand on the nastiness of broom, it grows high enough to enable fires to crown, something normally not a problem with mature redwoods, whose lowest branches are too far off the ground to be reached by the flames from lower native undergrowth.

As for lovely memories, I remember the xylophone rain gutters at Wren House.

[equesgal.livejournal.com]

That moisture is now down my way in the form of blowwwwing snow. Joy.