To say that it’s been soggy lately would usher restraint and understatement into new chapters. Yesterday’s super saturating deluge came on the heels of day-after-day drizzles and downpours. This evening’s rain drenched orchard snapshots hint at some pros and cons of rain, rain, rain,…
Rain Drenched Orchard (Photo: Geo Davis)
Let’s start with the lush tree foliage and grass. The verdant canopies and remarkable new growth. The ubiquitous green!
No drought here, ladies and gentlemen.
On the contrary, the ground is spongy. Practically boggy. And some vegetable plants in the garden are even slightly anemic, healthy green paling to a sickly yellow-green from wet roots.
Rain Drenched Orchard (Photo: Geo Davis)
The rain drenched orchard nevertheless appears healthy. Lots of baby apples promise a robust harvest in 2-3 months. Unfortunately two applications of kaolin clay — part of our holistic orcharding regimen — have been rinsed off, leaving fruit and leaves vulnerable to pests. As soon as the rain abates for a stretch we’ll apply s third coat.
Drizzly Day Discovery #1 was this rain soaked vista that inspired an itty-bitty poem. (Source: @virtualdavis)
Drizzly day disappointment is real. It’s a sort of malaise. Perhaps not for all of us, but definitely for some of us.
And yet an inclement day needn’t always disappoint. Far from it, in fact. So — as much to convince myself as to convince you, patient reader — I’ll share a glimpse of two memorable aspects from Tuesday’s rainy washout.
Drizzly Day Haiku
I almost opted out of my morning bike ride because rain was threatening. From early morning “gray light” to sunrise around 5:45 AM to an overcast-but-brightening first hour of the day to… darkness. It was as if we’ve been plunged back into night.
But I pulled on my MAMIL clown suit and headed up to the carriage barn to get my bicycle. It was increasingly clear that raindrops would be falling. Soon. As I pushed my gravel bike outside it begin to drizzle.
Not the most inspiring conditions for a ride, but I decided to give it a go. Over the next 75 minutes the drizzle increased into a full-on rain, then back to drizzle, then a rain scarcely heavier than mist, then back to driving rain. I was drenched. My shoes slurped with each pedal stroke. Road spray blurred with the falling rain. Water up, water down. And from time to time I enjoyed thorough drenching from my flank as a vehicle thundered past. It occurred to me that taking a bicycle through a car wash might feel similar. I don’t advise trying it.
On the positive side, the morning’s temperature was cooler than recent days, and the rain was actually refreshing. Cycling in rainy conditions has the effect of shrinking the world a little bit, decreasing the rider’s focus to a relatively small bubble around him/her while pedaling down the road. This hunkering can sometimes catalyze some pretty useful thinking. Soggy but catalytic headspace!
When I was almost home, pedaling up the small hill at the intersection of NYS Route 22 and Middle Road (where I suspect we may soon confirm Hillcrest Station to have stood a century or so ago), I came across the enchanting view above. It’s a vista that I have appreciated often, but the rain transformed it. Something about the light, the softened edges, the muted palette, and the playful juxtaposition of depth. The tree in the semi-foreground and the Adirondack mountains in the semi-background, both silhouetted as a middle focal horizon between between lush green fields and tie-dyed skies. I stopped and stood awhile absorbing.
And then, as if the soggy haiku wasn’t enough, I also enjoyed another drizzly day discovery in the evening. Our Santa Fe friend and carpenter, Hroth Ottosen, who’s been visiting and helping rebuild Rosslyn’s deck captured a double rainbow over Lake Champlain. Certainly that is some sort of lucky! Although I missed the moment, he snapped some excellent images including the one shown below.
Drizzly Day Discovery #2 was a double rainbow that inspired a micro meditation video. (Source: Hroth Ottosen)
All things considered, this was a drizzly day to reset all expectations. From now on I’ll anticipate good discoveries no matter what sort of weather nature sends out way. And maybe you too have a drizzly day positive story? Hope so!
With some Champlain Valley residents being evacuated by boat and the Wesport Marina totally flooded, we’re feeling fortunate that a submerged boathouse and waterfront is the extent of our flooding problems.
Although we have our work cut our for us when Lake Champlain water levels drop, another short-term challenge is the super saturated soil. Tilling the vegetable garden has been out of the question, planting more grape vines, fruit trees and shrubs likewise has been suspended lest we drown the roots. Last year, I planted spinach and French Breakfast Radishes in the garden in mid-March, and my bride and I had been gorging on succulent baby spinach for weeks by this point. Not so this year. Some onions and leeks wintered over, but nothing new has been planted in the vegetable garden yet.
I received a call from Mr. Murphy, the gentleman who — with his son and sometimes his grandson — has done an unbelievable job of maintaining our lawns for the last two years. He wanted to know when to start mowing lawns for the season. He agreed that the ground was far too saturated and suggested we wait a couple of weeks. I agreed.
Frankly, I’ve agreed with almost every decision Mr. Murphy has made over the last two years. He’s a lawn master. And a weather master. He keeps track of the forecast and works around it, advancing or pushing back our lawn mowing each week per the rain forecast. And so far we’ve never once had an unmowed lawn for the weekend! And he’s nice as can be, always smiling, always ready to let me in on an amusing story or anecdote. He’s famous in these parts for his tomato plants. He raises many hundreds of plants and then sells them to friends and neighbors, donating the profits to the local animal shelter.
In short, I’m a big fan of Mr. Murphy, and when he told me that his greenhouse was flooded, I was sympathetic as only a sunken boathouse owner could be.
Water, water everywhere! We’re all ready for a drought…
Hyacinth perfume the air outside our breakfast room
Actually, today I took matters into my own hands. Despite the notion that a couple of dry weeks would be needed to till and plant, I jumped the gun. Rising lake water had gotten its talons into my spirit, so I decided to ignore the flood and enjoy the first balmy spring day in a while gardening, pruning, landscaping. And you know what? It worked! I only wish I’d tried this approach a few days ago. Maybe Lake Champlain wouldn’t have risen so high.
Doug and I spent part of the morning changing over the tractor from snow plow to backhoe, and then proceeded to rip out a lumber retaining wall at the southeast corner of the old clay tennis court. I suspected that the area contained objectionable refuse (a battery and part of a garden hose had floated to the surface) and the wall had been built altogether too close to the carriage barn resulting in sill and framing rot. I’ll tell the story of what we discovered in another post.
Then we tilled the garden under for the second time, adding plenty of sphagnum moss to help lighten the soil. We were premature. The tines clogged repeatedly, but we made it through which will help the soil dry out. Tomorrow I’m hoping to make another pass and possibly — I dare not pronounce my wish lest I tempt the rain fates — just possibly I’ll be able to plant some spinach and kale. I’d hoped to have the vegetable garden so much further along by now because of some ambitious plans. We’re relocating the asparagus patch from south of the carriage barn to back by the vegetable garden. The strawberry beds will also be moved. And the rhubarb. And blueberries, raspberries and blackberries are arriving in a couple of weeks to be planted. None of these beds have been prepared yet.
But today marked the first major step forward in preparing the vegetable and fruit gardens. And tomorrow, weather permitting, I intend to continue full steam ahead! Fingers crossed…
