20 March 2011 - Waiting on the rain

Today I am waiting on the rain. I want a heavy soaking rain that will wash away the last of winter. I want it to wash away the piles of cinders left over from the dirty snow. I want the matted, yellowed winter grass to be revived. I want the rain to be a sign to all the dormant bushes that they should leaf out, bloom, grow! It's a big want list, but not unreasonable.

The barometer plummeted, the sky is dark, the wind is out of the east and I'm waiting. I waited it out all morning in a practical way. Went out and raked the ditches, the berm and some of lawn. Picked up branches, filled 9 yard waste bags with leaves. Under the layers of leaves I found the bright red points of peonies, daffs, tulips, the beginning green-up of perennials such as golden poppy, mertensia, lung wort. And new little plants from heavy reseeders like larkspur. It was wonderful.

The rain was supposed to start around two, rain all afternoon and then turn into thunderstorms for evening and overnight. At 5pm, still no rain, but if I look at the radar map on the bug, it should be pouring out there. humph.

The silver maples' buds have burst open into bloom. They are small insignificant flowers, but en masse they put on quite a show. Especially when the sun hits the stamens and makes everything shimmer.

Depending on the weather, and the latitude, they bloom anywhere from February through March. I always wondered what early bee would pollinate these flowers, but I just recently learned they are wind pollinated. No wonder there are so many thousands of seedpods. While the resultant helicopters are a pain to gardeners: they're messy and they germinate immediately, they have their place in the world as foodstuff for squirrels and a wide range of birds. Since the buds first swell in February, they are important for squirrels whose food supply is usually depleted in late winter. 

Last night was the equinox accompanied by the full moon in perigee. When the moon first appeared low on the horizon it was a deep gold, and almost obscured by all the trees.

I spent the evening popping outside every 15 minutes, waiting for it clear the trees. As it rose and got brighter, the sky around the moon was light--almost blue.

When it cleared the trees, it was so bright, it was almost hard to look at. A slight haze increased the aura around it. 

I am so glad the night was clear and that I didn't miss any of this. Witnessing such spectacles are a holy experience for me. Sometimes I think I will self-combust from rapture.

Meanwhile, I am waiting for the rain.