Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label rain. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

The pleasure of our winter gardens, El Niño edition


Our calla lilies are the stars of our winter gardens.

One of the simple pleasures of homeownership in northern California is being able to maintain a garden year-round, including wintertime.

Occasionally, daytime temperatures climb into the low-to-mid 60s, mixing cloudy with sunny skies. With apologies to my dear friends back east and in the Midwest, who've put up with more than their share of sub-freezing temperatures and snowy blizzards, we do get spoiled this time of year by our moderate climate.

Here, however, we've been waiting what seems like an eternity for a good El Niño season to arrive. Having endured a long drought the past couple of years -- last January we had zilch for rain -- since the beginning of 2016, we've received several quality inches of much-needed precipitation. Maybe, it's been too much of a good thing.

The green grass covering our modest-sized yard has grown so tall that it's beginning to resemble the rough of a British links golf course. Not exactly pristine. Hopefully, one of these days, once it dries out, I'll have a chance to mow and edge the lawn and pull some weeds. The upside to all of our much-needed rain -- yes, there is an upside -- is our winter flowers are having quite the season to remember.

In taking stock of what all of January's rain has meant to our garden, consider this: our camellia bush, which has consistently bloomed since November, still has many pink and white camellias; ditto for our azaleas, which have enjoyed a tremendous rebirth. Our fuchsias are experiencing consistent growth thanks to the abundance of this month's rain, and a few of our rose bushes are still producing blooms.

Finally, the first of our calla lilies, which grow on the usually shady east side of our house, have arrived on schedule. One of them has begun to open its spathe (the part of the lily that is white and shaped like the bell of a trumpet) while a couple of others are about a week or so away from blooming. By spring, we should have a couple dozen fully-bloomed calla lilies.

Each of our plants and flowers has its own growth cycle during the year. Luckily, nature is our ally and there's always something in bloom.

Photos: By Michael Dickens ©2016.



Tuesday, April 9, 2013

Sharing a checklist that's always in season


In our garden / A spring white rose blooms after an April shower.


Sharing a spring checklist
 that's been making the rounds, 
but one I admire for its sincerity and purpose.
 And, it's one which is always in season,
rain or shine:

"Be kind.
Work hard.
Stay humble.
Smile often.
Stay loyal.
Keep honest.
Travel when possible.
Never stop learning.
Be thankful always.
And love."

Photograph of white rose by Michael Dickens, copyright 2013. All rights reserved.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

The pleasure of our gardens, part 17

I am always amazed at how the color and shape of a single rose can change in just a matter of days.

The spring weather has been kind to the rose bushes in our backyard garden and has made photographing our roses and other flowers a real pleasure ~ and, a daily habit.

Last week, I followed the progress of a single rainbow-colored rose over the course of four days and recorded three photographs that illustrate how its color and shape changed day by day.

May 11, 7:58 p.m.

May 13, 7:13 a.m.

May 14, 3:25 p.m.

Sometimes, all it takes is a bit of sunshine, coupled with a little overnight rain, to make things nice and colorful in our garden.

All photographs by Michael Dickens, copyright 2011.

Friday, April 22, 2011

The pleasure of our gardens, part 16


Our first Queen Elizabeth rose of the season /
 Blooming just in time for the Royal Wedding.


Oh, the joy of morning rain to enhance the beauty of flowers.

It has been a celebratory week of first blooms in our gardens this week.  There's been something new to enjoy each day.

First iris bloom of spring.
Aided by the right amount of sunshine and rain, our first roses and iris are now blooming and adding beautiful color and tone to our backyard garden.

Among the earliest to bloom have been our White roses as well as our Queen Elizabeth, Pristine and First Prize roses.  And Thursday morning, I stood on our deck and observed our first iris had opened, too.

Our first Pristine rose bloom of the spring /
Enjoying the late afternoon sunshine of April 21.

Yes, it's been a celebratory week of first blooms.  And in the case of the lovely pink Queen Elizabeth rose, its arrival is just in time for next week's Royal Wedding. Who knew!

Tuesday, April 12, 2011

The pleasure of our gardens, part 15

A Garden party /
What started as a trio, grew into a quintet and now is a septet.

As the middle of April approaches, our spring garden is starting to take shape.  And, with the Bay Area sun shining regularly again, it's a matter of days before we welcome the return of our irises and roses.

Yes, spring colors are ready to burst out just in time for Easter.

Calla lily / Its trumpet blooming
and smiling.
Our calla lilies, which started to blossom in mid January, are now in full bloom. What started as a trinity of three (Father, Son and Holy Ghost?) in a calla lily bed anchored by our Japanese maple tree on the right side of our front porch has grown up to become a party of seven (one calla lily for each day of the week, maybe?).  Around the corner from the garden party, the rest of our majestic calla lilies are lined up single-file along the east side of our house with their trumpets all beaming with smiles.

Budding iris / Peaking out
through sword-shaped leaves.
In our backyard garden, our iris bed has been a hub of activity as sword-shaped leaves have grown tremendously during the past month thanks to plenty of rain. The first iris buds protruding through these sword-shaped leaves should start blooming within a week.

Queen Elizabeth rose /
Our first bud is ready
to open any day.
Also, our Queen Elizabeth and Mr. Lincoln rose bushes have shown some budding development after being pruned back for the winter months.

Day-by-day, along with our other rose bushes, they are showing hints that they're ready to blossom.  Once they do, we will be rewarded with a steady stream of colorful roses for days and months to come.

The pleasure of our gardens, indeed.

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

Clouds: Appreciating the theater of the sky


"I've looked at clouds from both sides now / 
From up and down, and still somehow"

Bows and flows of angel hair,
And ice cream castles in the air,
And feather canyons everywhere,
I've looked at clouds that way.

But now they only block the sun,
They rain and snow on everyone.
So many things I would have done,
But clouds got in my way.

I've looked at clouds from both sides now.
From up and down, and still somehow,
It's clouds illusions I recall.
I really don't know clouds at all.
~ From "Both Sides, Now" by Joni Mitchell, Clouds (1969).

Clouds / thinking Joni Mitchell
March has been a rainy month throughout the San Francisco Bay Area. Good news for the trees, plants and flowers, of course. Not so great for getting outside to work in the garden. But, it doesn't come as any great surprise since the winter months are when it rains most in northern California.  When it hasn't been wet, often, the skies above me have been filled with clouds.  Even a partly-sunny day is bound to have clouds.  When I think of clouds suspended in the Earth's atmosphere above me, I am reminded of the classic 1969 Joni Mitchell album, Clouds.

Clouds and their formations are fascinating to observe. They are grouped into three physical categories: cirri form, cumuli form or convective, and strati form.  However, I'm not here to give a science lecture.  Instead, to me, clouds are democratic ~ they come in all shapes and sizes ~ and while some appear puffy like huge expansive cotton balls, others look pretty darn threatening and ready to burst at any moment.

Clouds / puffy, democratic
During daylight hours, I can stand on our deck, face east and, simply, look up in the sky.  Oh, and be rewarded, too, with a theater in the sky. Sometimes, I can see an airplane in the distant flying into the clouds, wondering what its destination might be.

Like an artist applying a paintbrush to a canvas, the clouds overhead create an atmospheric illusion, a chimera in the sky. Never content with staying in one place too long, they glide effortlessly across the Bay Area sky, usually from my left to right ~ north to south ~ as I look up at them while facing eastward.  Of course, it's best when the clouds overhead don't appear too threatening.

There's a simple reward in observing clouds.  For me, it's found in making the time ~ and having the patience ~ to appreciate their beauty.  And, if I have my camera at the ready, all the better.

"It's clouds illusions I recall / I really don't know clouds at all."

Photographs by Michael Dickens, copyright 2010. All rights reserved.
Video of Joni Mitchell singing "Both Sides, Now" courtesy of YouTube.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Guilty pleasures for a rainy, December evening

A steady rain has pounded the Bay Area all day long. We get rain this time of year while our friends and family in Minnesota get to deal with shoveling snow and enduring bitter-cold, freezing temperatures. Our favorite TV meteorologist predicted today's miserable, late autumn Bay Area forecast during last night's broadcast. So, it's not a big surprise. At least the weekend will be nice.

Misery loves company and until the rain lets up and the weather improves, I'm thinking: "What better way to pass a dreary evening than by staying home and enjoying the company of a few guilty pleasures ..."

Namely:

a good glass of wine ...

2005 Vintage Layer Cake Shiraz

great comfort food ...

Homeroom Mac + Cheese

and a delicious chocolate bar for dessert.

B.T. McElrath Chocolatier milk chocolate bar

Throw in an interesting book ~ I'm currently reading A.J. Liebling's Between Meals: An Appetite for Paris ~ or, perhaps, play your iPod on shuffle mode, and you've got the perfect solution to turning a negative evening into a positive one.  It's all about attitude and atmosphere, right?

I'm sure everyone has their own way of coping with dreary weather.  What's yours?

Friday, November 12, 2010

The pleasure of our gardens, part 13

Less than a week after wearing shorts and enjoying a string of unusually nice, mid-autumn Bay Area days  ~ full of sunshine and temperatures in the middle seventies ~ the start of another rainy season arrived.  Cue up the irritation and annoyance.

On Sunday, we received about 1.2 inches of precipitation, beneficial to the well-being of our flowers and plants as well as to our area reservoirs.  Unfortunately, the weekend's rain wasn't so good for getting out to do any constructive gardening. It did allow us to catch up on some comedies and dramas idly waiting for us in our television's DVR.  So, I guess the day wasn't a total wash.  Still ...

First Prize roses / enjoying mid-autumn sunshine

Although our Bay Area rain isn't nearly as enduring (although maybe it's endearing) as it is for our friends in Seattle, the weather has started turning cold and dreary as winter approaches.  Lately, the mercury has dipped into the low forties overnight ~ prompting us to fire up our space heater in the evening and overnight ~ and our daytime highs have settled down into the low-to-middle sixties since last week's warmer fortunes.  A month from now, as the days continue getting shorter, I'm sure our lowest lows will drop into the thirties and our highest highs will only reach the fifties.

Fuchsia / purplish-red and thriving, rain or shine

Thanks to the recent rain and occasional afternoon sunshine, our camellias and rhododendrons are still nicely blooming as well as the purplish-red fuchsia plant in our front yard.  Rain or shine, our fuchsia reacts equally well.  Plus, our little azalea bush, which blooms periodically throughout the year, is once again active.  Meanwhile, some of the rose bushes in our backyard ~ our First Prize and Mr. Lincoln roses come to mind ~ continue thriving.

Mr. Lincoln rose / bright and open-minded

Our weather be damned.

All photos by Michael Dickens, copyright 2010.