Dancing in the rain...

It is just no wonder rainy days make me happy.

Check out this little hummingbird doing his Gene Kelly impersonation of dancing in the rain.

It is times like these that I just can't help but run for the camera...

Who needs a bucket list?

If anyone ever asked me what I wanted, I'd be lost for an answer. The thing is, I simply want to be connected to the world around me. That may ultimately include complexities not yet envisioned, but for right now, it just means I'm pretty content to just enjoy whatever comes along.

To me, all things in life are all about connections. Whether it is a phone call from my kids on Mother's Day, my husband saying thanks when I make him dinner, or the Saturday morning tradition of hearing from my best friend, I relish the people connections in my life.

It would be difficult to make a list of what I want because most of the time, I don't want anything. My bucket is smaller than a vintage soda bottle top. At other times, my wants encompass the entire universe. I guess it all depends on the day. 

On this day, I satisfied one desire that might have been listed in that tiny bottle cap. 

It had rained overnight and throughout the weekend. We got between 4 and 4.5 inches of rain, something we definitely needed. The ground hasn't yet made up the deficit from past drought conditions. In addition, I had just planted my garden, which could always use a good rain. 

I absolutely love rainy days, so I was already in pretty good spirits when I woke up this morning. Sleep was especially dreamy. I always keep the windows open, even when it rains--no--especially when it rains. I like to hear the sound of the rain, but even more importantly, when it rains a lot, the dry creek in the backyard makes the most beautiful music. As water rushes over some of the rocks that have been around for thousands of years, it moves others out of its way, constantly and deliberately making its way toward the river miles away. 

I've always heard it, but I've never seen it, at least until this morning. I always wanted to, but just never did. The creek bed is in the middle of our property, at its lowest point. The land on both sides slopes toward it. The woods are pretty dense with all the trees fully leafed. I always assumed the path to the creek would be muddy and messy, tick-infested, and perhaps there would be an abundance of snakes trying to escape the water-soaked ground. I had no desire to encounter them! The best time to hear the creek, would be while it is still raining or very shortly after it stopped, while the water-logged hills were still draining. 

I'm not sure why I never went out to where the water rushes. Watching water flow is one of my favorite things. I love water, though I have a healthy respect for it. Our little creek running is basically just a natural drainage ditch, which in periods of heavy rain becomes a flash flood, something I never really experienced before. I lived my entire life in a flat topography, where drainage issues were often times engineered. Oh, how I have grown to love the dramatic elevations here! 

My husband has labeled our creek, 'Bout Time Creek.' One day after a night of rain we heard it. He said it was 'bout time. The name just stuck.

Love August Flowers

I often take a walk around the yard, just to see how my plants are doing. Usually there is little to see past late June. But this year was different. It is August and there are plenty of things to see and enjoy. So as a follow up to my recent post, Rain is done; back to watering, where I proclaim the joy of precipitation, here are a couple of the benefits of the wet weather.

I will never forget this time last year when we suffered such severe drought conditions. The ground was hard and cracked. Temperatures hovered over the 100º mark for days and days. The entire landscape was parched. Even weeds didn't grow.

This is so much better.

A Coneflower I didn't think would make it after the deer pruned it severely this Spring

A young crepe myrtle that has never bloomed so profusely before

These petunias' sparse blossoms were spindly and pathetic, but are now blooming profusely

Hanging geraniums are in the forefront of a bed of impatiens and vinca

Roma Tomatoes were near death from being eaten. Heavy rain sparked new life in them. I now anticipate their ripening.

Rain is done; back to watering

'Bout Time Creek after about 8 inches of rain

This summer has been spectacular, in my view. With cooler temperatures--right now it is a comfortable 69.6º at 10:00 a.m. It may reach 75º at the hottest part of the day. I call this perfection, especially for the middle of August in Arkansas. The windows are open and the breeze feels heavenly.

We have finally had enough rain! After two weeks, the rain finally ended a couple days ago. In fact, I had to water my plants again. They are now spoiled after enjoying such a good soaking every day. The Ozarks experienced a very rainy spell--like nothing I have seen before--at least not during an Arkansas summer.

It rained nearly every day for days on end. Some areas north and south of us were inundated, receiving far more rain than we did. It resulted in flash flooding that destroyed property and even took lives. That wasn't the case here. In fact, the dry creek bed that traverses our property flowed at hardly more than a trickle. 

A few years ago, my husband, John, named our creek. One spring after a heavy rainfall--13 inches I believe--the water rushed like a torrent, draining areas of higher elevation. It sounded like Niagara Falls. He said it was 'bout time there was water in it. So he started calling it 'Bout Time Creek. The name stuck. By the way, I haven't heard it like that since.

Our total rainfall was nowhere near what others received. Unfortunately we didn't monitor rainfall totals over the entire event. Rather we simply noticed two inches here and three inches there. I think the most was four inches at one time. Other communities north of us received two and three times that amount in one day. Here, the ground was so deficient it never really got saturated to the point of becoming mere runoff which explains why the creek never raged. The photo above was taken just a day after the last rainfall. 

I loved waking up to the sound of rain and going to sleep to it as well. I never had this affinity for rainy days before, but I now look at rain as nurturing and so necessary to the survival of all living things. I have come to really enjoy a good rainy day. At times I sat on the front porch enjoying it and watching the birds, seemingly frenzied, as they scurried back and forth from a nearby tree to their feeder and back again. In my mind, they seemed to enjoy the moody days too. 

Some of my friends began to complain about the dark and dreary conditions. I just couldn't relate. 

I suppose I remember all too well what it was like just a year ago when temperatures hovered over 100º for days on end. We couldn't get a drop of rain to save our lives. I watched clouds form overhead only to disappear before my eyes. I didn't think it would ever rain again. I was afraid our well would run dry or all our trees would die. I watched all my plants that I so carefully planted and cared for during the spring months perish in the parched conditions, the unyielding sun burning everything beneath it. The drought was considered extreme. It was really bad. 

So a few days ago when the rain finally ended, I was disappointed. The result of our many rainy days is renewed hope for my garden, which is now thriving and producing. My flowers, some of which I feared would die after becoming lunch for the deer, have recovered and are now blooming again. The rain was like waving a magic wand over the landscape. I plan to enjoy the benefits until we receive our next rain event. Until then, I don't mind watering. It is one of my most favorite chores.

Gardening can be a challenge

Springtime Azaleas 

One of my favorite summertime tasks is watering the gardens. That is a good thing, because it never seems to rain at our house. I cringe when I hear news of flash flood warnings, 30 miles to the north or south of us. Here, nary a drop. This lack of rainfall is becoming habitual. We sure could use the rain.

While watering is my favorite chore, calling what I have 'gardens' may be a misnomer because since moving to the Ozarks, I have been completely garden-challenged. I used to pride myself on having a green thumb, but that was in Illinois, the land of perfect tilth in a rich, deep layer of topsoil. I really do miss Illinois dirt.

I have gardening successes now and then, such as my herb garden that is sporting a rosemary plant so healthy it may take over the entire back yard or the vinca that stands up to anything and grows and spreads wherever it can. I let it have its way, because it is alive, pretty, green, and has flowers. Besides, there are snakes living in it and I see no reason to disrupt their happy home. I can also grow hot peppers extremely well, which is one of my favorite things to grow and to eat. However, high achievement generally is not the norm. When I set out my first plants with all the hope and expectation of a new, novice Ozarks homeowner, I never counted on the animals that live in the woods eating everything I put into the ground or the extremely hot conditions that turn healthy plants into crispy critters, or the nitrogen-starvation in the soil that prevents anything other than trees to grow in my woodland landscape.

Still, I try. I will conquer this gardening thing!

I thought I solved my tomato gardening escapades when my husband built a lovely raised bed garden for me. Last year, I actually ate tomatoes, albeit not as many as I had hoped. Tomatoes will generally grow anywhere, except at my house.

The current condition of the many different heirloom varieties I've planted are now just sticks. Something is eating them, although I have no idea what. I can't find a single tomato hornworm, and I have checked at various times of the day. Thankfully I have tomatoes planted all over the place in pots on the deck, the patio, on the stairs--places the deer haven't gone yet. I refuse to be tomato-free this year. Whatever is eating the leaves is very curious. There are little drills in the dirt that look like ant hills, but with a large shallow hole the size of a marble in the center. I have no idea who is making those. I don't even know if they are coming from the surface and escaping under ground or if they are living under ground and coming up.

Flowers don't do much better at my house. My husband and I just spent some quality time moving landscaping bricks from the backyard herb garden. He recently enlarged it, to accommodate the rosemary. He used landscape timbers. Our aim was to build a small retaining wall, since our front yard is heavily sloped. We have tried various plants, but so far, the only thing that grows are lilies, daffodils, and irises. But there is another problem. The deer help themselves to every flower they see. They have even walked on the front sidewalk and onto the porch to grab something.

A flower garden in the making

Deer just make themselves at home here. I'm flattered, but stop eating my flowers!

I just planted some cone flowers--native plants--thinking they will do well. I've tried amending the soil with bone meal to add phosphorous and blood meal to add nitrogen. The plants were actually showing signs of life. I watered carefully every day during the hot weather. I woke up one morning and the flower heads which were just about to show color, were gone along with most of the leaves. It is my rogue deer friend, Sarah. Not only does she drink from the bird bath, as state in a previous post but she helps herself to flowers too. She and her friends have eaten every living thing that I've put in the ground. We have sprayed all kinds of natural products that promise to repel deer and snakes and chiggers and ticks, apparently to no avail.

This is disheartening, but it is also a learning experience. I will not give in. I will grow beautiful flowers and vegetables if it kills me.

Drought is taking its toll at our house

The Arkansas Ozarks remains the darkest red color on the map, which illustrates our exceptional drought. Moisture is about a foot less than where it should be at this time of year. That is frightening since we don't get all that much rain in the summertime anyway.

We have had to water to keep things going. I've managed to save  tomato and pepper plants; they continue to produce, for which I'm very grateful. I've planted some new seeds for a fall crop of beans, cucumbers, cilantro, arugula, Swiss Chard, lettuce, radishes, and some other things. They are starting to sprout now, so watering remains essential.

The understory of the woods is coming back, due to a recent quarter-inch of rainfall. It is amazing what that small amount of rain can do to help what some people call weeds. To me, the only "weed" we have is the Bermuda grass that invades everything and is nearly impossible to pull out of where it doesn't belong.

Everything else, to me, is a wildflower or wild vine--but that's just me.

The local deer population has made it a habit to feed wherever they can during this dry spell. Here, a doe drinks from our rain barrel. It sits next to a garden where she has helped herself all summer. 

Watering the flowers was a mixed bag. I worked hard to keep my flowers alive, but they represented the only greenery around. So, I could hardly be upset Mama Deer eating them when that was the only food she could find. The result is that I have no flowers left, but the deer are happy.

The same is true for these cute little fawn siblings. They actually make a daily trek to our front porch-literally onto the front porch to do their grocery shopping. 

I am starting to wonder if they want to come inside to watch a little TV or play a board game with our cats. 

Even though the weather is improving a little, meaning it isn't over 100º anymore, it remains very hot and dry. We have had less than one inch of rain since last May with the most being a half inch. 

Hurricane Isaac is due to visit the Ozarks in a couple days, bringing us a valuable gift--lots or rain. We will be very grateful.

Rain, rain, beautiful rain

This summer has been so oppressive; I've felt like a shut-in. Since moving to Arkansas, I've experienced hot, but this has been over-the-top hot. It has been deathly hot. Since the heat began in May, there have been only a handful of upper 90º days. The rest have been well over 100º. In the past 24-hours though, we have had a reprieve--a tiny respite from the dry, triple-digit heat. 

Rain is over for us now,
but more could be coming!!!

We have watched the radar with laser-like intensity, holding our breaths and feeling hopeful whenever any green color appeared anywhere in the vicinity of our state. For most of the summer, there has been no color on the map whatsoever. Meteorologists say we have been beneath a dome of high pressure that is too strong to allow any moisture to penetrate it. At times, a front would move through or the jet stream would cause a shift in the upper level atmosphere, allowing for rain to form. So often we watched it come oh, so close, but never make it to our house. I was starting to wonder if we didn't have some kind of anti-rain device installed on our roof. 

I suppose we should consider ourselves lucky in a way. Many of the areas that received rain this summer also had accompanying destructive winds. There was lots of damage because of strong storms. Nevertheless, it was disheartening as we watched clouds form and then come close only to disappear. I could look out the window one minute and even hear thunder, only to watch it all dissipate right before my eyes.

This was our last really good rain--April 16th!
All that green in this picture is now brown and dry!

I've experienced hot and humid summers, but never such dry heat. This is unlike anything I've ever felt. While the mornings and evenings were somewhat cool, the heat during the day was so extreme that it burned every living thing in the plant world. Even with watering, the excessive drought we have been experiencing has done little to keep precious plants alive. I am hoping they are just dormant and not dead. 

Then yesterday afternoon, the radar showed rain, one little line of what the weathermen called monsoonal rain that originated in the Pacific ocean. It traveled from the southwestern states in an arc up to Colorado and around, then back down--right to our house. The rain was very gentle, and at times was no more than a spitting from the heavens. But at other times, it was a good, steady downpour. Because of the day of cloud cover, the temperature cooled to a comfortable 79º. I was able to open a window,. Hearing the rain was therapy for a severe case of rain deprivation. It felt like Spring! I felt the same kind of jubilation after it started to rain as I feel during springtime, my favorite season of the year.

Almost as soon as the rain began, the tree frogs started to sing. The forest awoke for the first time in so long. A more jubilant melody came from the birds.

When I awoke this morning, I couldn't see out of the windows. With the air conditioning cooling the inside of the house and the hot humid air outside, the windows were completely opaque. I stepped outside and it was raining, ever so lightly. The air was thick with moisture. The rain has stopped for now, but the radar shows more moisture on the map. I hope it follows a similar course. We have been missed all summer and really could use it. We planted some small trees earlier this year. They have lost all their leaves, despite our keeping them watered, I fear they will not survive.

None of my flowers are alive, despite my keeping them watered too. The deer have had nothing to eat, so they have been attracted to the green succulent stems and leaves from my geraniums, hostas, coral bells, petunias, and others. Even those on our front porch have been discovered by mama deer and her fawns. We've seen them munching on flowers and drinking out of the bird baths that we have worked hard to keep full and cooled. I couldn't stop them. Poor dears had nothing else to eat. We've had to bring in all our bird feeders because during the night, the marauding beasts seemingly followed the deer path to our front door. They didn't just eat, they were destructive. I hope they are somewhat happier now and perhaps some of my plants will recover.

Plenty of rain gives way to beautiful spring

The older this plant gets the more flowers it
has. I look forward to these
sweet-scented lilacs every year.

It finally rained--the kind of rain that is memorable--more than seven inches. We needed it! I absolutely loved watching the rain.

I'm grateful that predicted severe storms didn't materialize. I'm slightly terrified of what Mother Nature can do and has done all around us over the past several years. We aren't that far from Branson, which was hit on Leap Day this year by a powerful, destructive tornado. Gassville which was hit a few years ago is woefully close by--in the same county. So, I feel fortunate.

This recent rain event was nothing like that. In fact, while there are some dock owners on the lake that aren't happy around here, I saw our rain as nothing but positive.

Since spring had already commenced, Mother Nature's magic nectar has transformed our landscape into almost a terrarium.

I had planted a few things in the garden, but just a few. After all, it is only mid-March and I don't want to face plant death from a freak frost. So, I kept it to a few things that I could cover if need be. I plan to sow more seeds this weekend. There is time to take it slow.

The only possible negative I can see from the vast quantity of rain we received is that the flowering of the early trees and shrubs was accelerated. The forsythia and redbuds no sooner got their flowers open when they fell off and sprouted leaves. To tell the truth though, that was enough flower for me because I really live for those beautiful spring-green leaves. To me, they are as beautiful as the flowers.

That quick flowering cycle of the early trees and shrubs is about to give way to the soon-to-be flowering of azaleas, lilacs, mid to late-blooming tulips and irises. It is all fine with me. To me, spring is like magic.

This summer sucks!

It's official--I don't like summer--at least not this summer anyway. 


With temperatures hovering well into the triple digits for days--as high as 114º yesterday--things are looking pretty grim around here. Most of my plants are dead; only one or two flowers remain close to the porch. That is only because I water them. Even my house plants on the shaded front porch are suffering even though I water at least every other day. There will be no fresh tomatoes to can this year--at least not from my garden. I am beginning to feel like a shut-in because it is just too hot to go outside. 


Thank goodness for Netflix. We have taken to watching movies during hot afternoons or evenings. 

The weather has taken its toll on the wildlife as well. Deer have actually come onto the front porch to eat my flowers. That may not be weather related--it might just have to do with the rascals thinking they can get away with gourmet dining at my expense. They already ate a hibiscus and newly-planted crab apple tree. 


Their behavior does seem rather odd, however. For a time they were here every day. There was a buck, a doe, and two fawns. I haven't seen any of them lately. I'm sure they abandoned our desert landscape in favor of river or lakeside property. And who can blame them? 


The hummingbirds which generally flurry from flower to flower and to the sugar-water feeders we keep on the porch, are now just sitting listlessly on the feeder, their long beaks parted. It is so sad. This morning while watering my plants, I found one had died in a pot of coleus. Just yesterday I saw her perched on that pot. 


We have tried to keep the bird bath full and cool.


I have always been fond of the rain, which is now so scarce. The drought is getting very serious. The last nice rain we had was in June. I can barely remember the dance of the raindrops and gentle sounds, not to mention the smell of it. Chanel No. 5 has nothing on the scent of rain in the woods.


There has been some rain in the area; showers and some storms have popped up on radar images. And we did get a few drops the other night, but it was hardly enough to wet the sidewalk. The clouds seem to form close by only to go some place else to release their precious moisture. Instead, the outdoors now smells like a newly-mown hay field--which is in reality just dying Bermuda grass. It is hard to believe that we enjoyed 11 straight days of rain yielding more than 30 inches just a few months ago. 


As August marches on, there will be more moderate temperatures, at least for a little while. It won't be long before I harangue about how cold it is outside and how I feel like a recluse again. Funny how that works?


It isn't just the weather that promises annoyance. During this respite from the out of doors, the news was all about our country's political divide and lack of compromise among the nation's leaders. During the winter months, we can look forward to the 2012 campaign season which promises to highlight perhaps a greater political divide.


Yes, thank goodness for Netflix.

The Ozarks has endured a very rainy season

Despite the sunny skies and warm temperatures, north-central Arkansas is still reeling from the effects of a series of torrential rains. Flooding continues.

Debris floats in the murky floodwater; a public dock is too far away to access

The White River basin has experienced so much rainfall that the flood-retention potential of the reservoirs on the White River system have exceeded their capacity. There has just been too much rain resulting in too much water.

Following one of the many articles in the local newspaper, The Baxter Bulletin recently, I noticed a comment about the dams not having any effect at all on flooding. The commenter suggested that it is almost like there aren't any dams at all.

I have to take issue with that. The dams have worked well. Yet, when they were designed, it was impossible to predict the kind of rain that has been experienced this year. I cannot imagine how horrific and widespread the flooding would have been without them. More lives would have been impacted and undoubtedly more lives would have been lost.

Controlling the White River basin is complicated, but basically, it began at Beaver Lake. With so much rain, The U.S. Army Corps of Engineers had to release water from the spill gates from the dam at Beaver Lake (near Eureka Springs, AR). The rush of water compromised the storage capacity downstream at Table Rock Lake, (Branson, MO) which also experienced record rainfalls. Those flood gates too had to be opened. When that occurred, people living along Lake Taneycomo, near Branson, endured major flooding. Because of the economic impact to Branson, affecting numerous homes and businesses, this became a huge news event.

The torrent continued to make its way into Bull Shoals Lake, which caused a need to open the spill gates at the dam there.

As I write this, the flood gates remain open at Bull Shoals, allowing 58,000 cubic feet of water per second to rush into the White River below. All 17 flood gates are open. It is a sight to see and hear.

Bull Shoals dam releases water into the White River

Awesome power was evident in sight and sound

Sadly, the result is high water in the generally tranquil waters of the White between Bull Shoals and Norfork. Homes and docks have been inundated by the swiftly rushing, but crystal clear, cool water.

We had almost 40 inches of rain in a less than two-week period. The rain was amazing. I have never seen anything like it.

While I feel for all those whose property is in a low-lying area, I have no sympathy for the arrogant and/or foolish people who built homes practically on the water's edge. The smart people, such as the pioneers who built the Wolf House, built it on a bluff overlooking the river. They still had their view of the river, but were protected by the nearly annual occurrence back then. They knew then and we should know now that rivers will always flood despite man's efforts. Man cannot overpower, out think, or out maneuver Mother Nature, so he shouldn't even try.

Except for the last day of this rainy spell, I have to say I enjoyed every minute of the rainy weather. Before this started, we were suffering from mild drought conditions. Rain was not something that came easily last summer. I used to watch out the window as clouds formed and then poof--they dried up and disappeared. It was depressing to watch all my plants shrivel and die. Flowers failed to bloom. Trees went into early dormancy. We even lost some. The vegetable garden was the worst of all. So, when the rains began this spring, it was time to rejoice. I had just planted the garden. It was thriving; everything was lush and green. We needed the rain.

Somewhere along the way, we crossed the line. I recall being just a little cranky on that last rainy day. I'm not sure if it was because I knew the rain was going to end, I missed seeing the sunshine, or if I had just reached a personal limit. I'm sure I would have continued my enjoyment of those dark, moody days, had it not been for the severe storms that accompanied  the heavy rain. The severity of the weather hit way too close to home, as we are only 80 miles from Joplin, MO where the death toll continues to climb, a week after the storm.

I have always been fascinated with flooding which hearkens back to when I was a small child, living on the south side of Chicago. My family lived on a street that dead-ended at a set or railroad tracks. A pedestrian viaduct below the the tracks allowed access to the other side. It was the way my brother and I walked to school every day. When the viaduct was flooded, we had to walk over the tracks instead. That was normally tabu, but was the only way during a flood. Such a forbidden trek was very exciting to a six-year old child. Apparently, that stimulation has followed me to adulthood.

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