After yesterday’s post, and Fraggy’s wish for rain for us, something happened.
The sky is falling. Water is coming down.
Thunder.
Lightning.
RAIN!
Here in my dry neck of the woods, rain in July is a miracle. Thunder and lightning seldom happen. The smell of wet concrete, the pattering of rain on the leaves, the dripping in the eaves, the splotchy sunshine. All this is coming through the studio window this morning.
More than 30 minutes after it started, it is still raining.
Amazing.
Over the last 24 hours, we got 4 inches / 10 cm. of rain. Here, the soil is clay, and drainage is very poor. As well, the infrastructure for handling massive amounts of water is not the best because we don’t get rain.
Rain? What’s that?
We haven’t seen much in the past 6 years! In our own back yard, we were flooded, literally, with inches of water creeping ever closer to the back patio doors. Finally, Josh took a submersible pump and hooked it up; we pumped out about 1800 gallons based on a 2-hour run with 900 gallons / hour (about 3600 l. / hour). He ran a hose from the back yard to the corner of the sidewalk, and the water poured into the street. And this was in the dark of the night . . .
So, what do we get out of massive rain besides mudslides, flood damage, fallen trees, tipped-over fire trucks, and general chaos? Greenery! New flowers! Mossy rocks! Mud!
And to celebrate – and explore – I returned to the park I went to last weekend, different cameras in hand. Just in a week’s time, new growth is more than evident – buds are now tiny, bright leaves; the water in the creek is a bit higher. There were little changes, too, such as the mossy rocks are greener than before, more palm trees are dead(ish) – for which I say, “Hooray!” – and little mushrooms coming up from under the fallen leaves.
And more rain is on the way!
Here in the U.S., “mucking” means “to play about in something” and “muck” mostly means “mud.” I think it may mean other things in other parts of the world, such as all the debris in a barn. So, here I am referring to mud, glorious mud!
We have been in the midst of a 6-year drought in California; this year, with heavy precipitation, the snowpack in the northern mountains is more than it has been in 22 years, but with warmer weather, the snow may melt. Then what? We do not have good water storage in much of the state, as in cities like Los Angeles, the water is drained to the sea. Where I live, we don’t get snow (but can admire it on the distant mountains). We get rain (when we get it). It has been a regular rain for the season for the past two months, and this week promises another two or three storms.
Thus, our skies are dark and grey, and the roads are a mess. So are the trails everywhere. You can see footprints and paw prints and bike tracks. It’s not a good time to go along cliffs as the potential of a landslide is pretty serious. The ground becomes saturated and slips. Houses along the ocean cliffs have been known to tumble. Sadly, people are also killed because of the slippage, or seriously injured. Just a few weeks ago, a colleague slipped and fell, and though I do not know the details, I wonder if this is what happened. I’ve lost a couple of other friends the same way, on local trails. Another friend fell and was seriously injured, but has made a good recovery considering all the metal in his back.
But the lure of the outdoors is there – the smell in the air of new growth, the light, the rush of water in usually dry creeks, the songs of birds and croaking of ravens and the screeches of the hawks. It is all there to be savored and enjoyed, quietly, listening.
I took my old beat up Nikon FM2N with me, and a roll of Provia 100, and a 28mm lens from 1970 or so. It does close ups, too. I am looking forward to seeing what comes from the roll, as it was dreary outside, and the light in the late afternoon was not good. I also brought my phone with me, partly for a potential emergency – hiking alone – but also to capture an image or two that might be worthwhile. So, above, is a picture taken last night before I turned to go home. The rains bring new growth, the first of which is this lovely white-flowered wild cucumber.
The rains have begun to turn our dreary California landscape into a bright green. This little puddle is now a pond.
While a lot of California is considered to be “out of the drought”, where I live, we are still considered to be in drought conditions. We have more storms on the way, which will help with our drought, but the aquifers are still below normal levels. Unless California considers continuing stringent water control and water storage problems, these rains will mean nothing if we have little rain in the years to come.
A corner may also be a “hidden part of the world” – I think this fits the theme element for this month. Throw in the little curve in the path, and we perhaps have covered two? For me, these little gems of natural beauty are the best. 11 images to make the panorama.
Ink, Yarn & Beer 