Sunday, May 22, 2016

Weather. Be. Damned.

Every garden needs a few Allium (ornamental onion) bulbs. 
In addition to being drop dead gorgeous, their oniony aroma keeps the critters at bay.

Have barely had time to breathe, much less blog, this being the most wonderful time of year.

Mud month, weeding month, a reunion of sorts. The meet and greet of stalwart perennials ~ back again for another season, weather be damned.

Let me repeat that: 



Woke to an unusually bright, golden-yellow Eastern sky.

It was really pretty. And, suspicious.

We Midwesterners are often suspicious about the weather. Because wide open spaces encourage tornadoes and violent storms. And, we've all suffered mightily from what Mother Nature sends our way.

Lilac: Burgundy Queen
But, I don't live in the Midwest, any more. 
So, perhaps I should stop being such a Nervous Nelly?  

Lewisia: Best grown from seed.
Walked into the kitchen, for that highly anticipated first cup o’ Joe.

Out the Western windows, the sky was eerily deep, dark grey. The air still. The garden quiet.

Something is coming, I thought to myself.

Here cometh the Ice Storm.
So, I began to gather up the little seedlings, ‘hardening off’ on the deck.

That’s when I heard horse hooves.

Who is GALLOPING a horse, on pavement, in town??? 

Peered over the deck and saw a moose. (Yeah! A very large moose.)

Racing down the middle of my paved street, away from the mountains, heading East as quick as her gangly legs could take her.

So, now I’m scared. 

We humans have evolved to the point where we 'sense' pretty much nothing. Relying on the weather channel for advice that is bleeding obvious to the moose.

Poured the blessed coffee, dolled it up with cream.

And, then I thought to myself: Geez, Kate, are you really so caffeine dependent that it didn’t occur to you to document all of this weirdness?

I mean, seriously, a galloping moose! A picture of that is totally blog worthy. Much more so than this sad aftermath...

Started digging for the camera, in case Mrs. Moose planned a return trip.

And, that’s when it hit. Like a solid wall of ice, slamming into the house.

Blowing the doors open, battering the garden, the car, breaking tree branches (ah ha maybe that’s why Mrs. Moose ran from the woods...)

Drifts of hailstones. Hellish winds. Destroying an entire month of hard work.

And, no sign of the moose. Though, I imagine she faired significantly better than those poor little flowers, unable to run.

* TIP: Harden off your seedlings. 
Tiny, fragile seedlings are rarely capable of handling the shock of being shoved into the soil, the second it feels like planting time. Let them hang out on your porch, or your deck, for a couple of weeks. Let them deal with real sunshine, not window sunshine, winds, rain, cooler nights. A week, or two, of hardening off means many more of them might survive.


Janie said...

Oh well, I guess you should have listened to your midWestern instincts. The weather in Utah is equally weird and can be pretty hard on spring blossoms.

Bonnie K said...

Oh how I would have I loved to see the galloping moose. Unfortunately, I've seen plenty of ice and hail. Hope your garden recovers.

Unknown said...

Have things recovered? we had hail that Thursday (26th)in Colorado. Hailed for 45 minutes. I hate hail.