Day 312: Thunderstorms are not common in the Pacific Northwest like they are in so much of the rest of the country, and generally occur during the nighttime hours, although not exclusively so. I had been asleep for an hour or more when the first flash-and-crash woke me. Several more rollers tumbled through, following several seconds behind the broad brightness of lightning behind the clouds. Then came the torrent. Ten minutes of pattering, pounding rain broke against the shingles and filled the gutters. Half an hour later, the storm had passed, searching for new sleepers to awaken.
As welcome as the rain was, it took its toll. I found the tallest Rudbeckias' stalks broken six inches up from ground level, the flowers toppled over and dashed with muddy splatters. The Rain Gods had seen fit to leave the Delphiniums standing through June, so to complain would have been ungrateful. Instead, I interpreted their whims as a gift, and after rinsing the mud from the flowers under the garden hose, I brought them indoors. I don't usually cut my garden's color, though to round out the arrangement, I clipped a a few orange and yellow bits to go with the mahogany.
No comments:
Post a Comment