Rain, and Fall

After a rainy week, it's sunny today, and things are drying out. The ground is loving the moisture, but we were hoping for a little bit more time to enjoy Indian Summer.

The roses are putting on their end of summer show.

The succulents have put on a burst of growth - as if they're enjoying the sudden colder weather, which seems odd.

There's not a lot of fall color, but that's just the nature of things here.

I'm running out of time to get my projects done. The futon does have its waterproof cover, but it may have to be moved off the deck and into the greenhouse, if it is going to survive the winter.

(Looking back on that statement, it may seem odd, but this is an area where the climate is mild, albeit rainy, all year long. You can pretty much leave things out - EXCEPT things that you don't want to get wet. This is an area where we hoped global warming was real, because then we could grow bougainvillea, and corn and tomatoes.)

The Full Sturgeon Moon

◼ Traditionally, many Native American tribes named the full Moons to keep track of the seasons. Here are examples: Sturgeon Moon, Green Corn Moon, Wheat Cut Moon, Moon When All Things Ripen, and Blueberry Moon. - The Old Farmers Almanac

And, In 2013, the August moon will REALLY be a Blue Moon. That is, it will be the third full moon in the summer season which has four full moons in 2013. This is the original, correct definition of a Blue Moon. The definition about the second full moon in a month is a more recent simplified usage.

Sometimes, neglect is exuberant

The roses are amazing - the 'carpet' rose is 4' tall, profusely flowering; Hot'Buttered Popcorn also flowering like crazy. The white parahebe is an amazing addition, and looks especially nice at night, lit up with a solar spotlight.

BUT.

Sometimes it's not...

And this is what I mean when I say I am starting over. Everything has to be cut back, blackberries are mixed in with the good stuff. The devastation is amazing. We're unearthing lots of what was once good, but it's not as easy and romantic as The Secret Garden makes it seem.

Nonetheless, there's hope. We'll see.

We're having the best summer weather

The best in decades. Sun, not too much fog, and not too much wind. Downright warm. You can go outside on a sunny day without wearing a ski-suit!

We've got tons of goldfinches, lots of hummingbirds, some cedar waxwings nesting in the back tangle (saw the baby begging the mama to feed him). The Chilean Jasmine is blooming right now, roses are going strong.

Except for my long-neglected disaster, everything is good, and we're working on remedying that.

The deck now has two full coats of stain, it's drying as we speak. It's taken some weeks to scrub, dry and then stain it, but it's done, and water beads up.

The futon frame is almost all painted, and will make a nice summer daybed out there. We generally have our best time of year in Indian Summer, which is ahead of us yet.

It's encouraging. I love this time of year anyway, and this is the best year in memory.

Refinishing the deck

Scrubbing, powerwashing, hoping the weather holds, the warm (and dry) days are rare here. One quarter of the deck is restained, another quarter prepped and ready, the whole thing should be ready by the weekend, and we'll stain the rest then.

Keeping the dogs off it is almost impossible, they have (and need) free-rein in the backyard. They're liking the new space, and we're finding lots of their little hidewaways.

The disaster

Ripping things out. Blackberries had overtaken everything, and choked it out, trees were growing almost prostrate, trying to reach out for the light. What isn't being ripped out is being pruned back drastically. What survives, survives.

It's starting over, albeit with some mature plantings that didn't exist before.

It's about restoring some of the charm and details, the little barrel pond under the Coral Bark Japanese Maple (the water seeped out just enough to keep the maple well watered), the pathways... everything is gone, obscured or disintegrated.

Some years of neglect have that effect. Now it's about the ruthless breaking of eggs to make the omelet. And that brush pile marks the beginning.

Update: A few years later, we finally got rid of that pile. Should have done it as we went, but didn't, and once the pile got so big and so entangled it became a massive undertaking to disassemble it. So many truckloads of greenwaste later (couldn't burn it, because there's been no rain and thus no permissive burn days), it is clear, and a nice lawn is in its rightful place. Yes, the pile did affect our ability to enjoy the space, but we were busy and working, and putting it off 'til later' just became a long time.

The New Year

We will open the book. Its pages are blank. We are going to put words on them ourselves. The book is called Opportunity and its first chapter is New Year's Day. ~Edith Lovejoy Pierce