More apocalypse, less angst
Last night’s windstorm was winding down this morning by the time I left the house today – a bit of a balmy breeze in the dawn-cracked air… and I was so content walking to the bus stop feeling the rightness of the coastal rainforest all around me.
Remember that from June until end of October we had almost nary a drop of rain – a situation not only dangerous – but one I find oppressive as day after day of sun reminds me of the drop in river flows, the evaporating reservoirs, the salmon spawning beds dried up, and the ends of cedar branches turning brown despite their status as “evergreen”.
The weather we are experiencing now is more “normal” than anything we have seen in the past few years – rain and windstorms being hallmarks of the coast I grew up on…. The heavy November rains have comforted me these past few weeks, and even the snow made me believe (however momentarily) it’s not all going to dry up and blow away tomorrow.
Goddess knows, we need the wet and the cold and even the windy…. it’s been too long without.
Same here. I am so, so glad to see the rains return. I stood outside last night, after a nice run, and just felt the rain fall on my face. Here in Eugene, we’ve endured pretty much the same weather you’ve described – bone-dry summer, dry October, but a heavier-than average rainfall in November – about 14 inches, I think. Now we are supposedly in for a major windstorm this evening to go along with the rain that’s been falling pretty steadily all night..
I spent a good part of the morning redirecting water. We live on a hillside, so helping the water get where it wants to be without necessarily letting it take its preferred path is a constant challenge. But it’s fun. Like being a kid playing in the water, making ditches and dams.
Winds up to 60mph predicted for tonight and tomorrow a.m. Should be interesting. I think I battened down all the hatches, but there’s always something I miss outside. Family’s at home gathering up the working flashlights, candles, etc. We are on a bit of a flaky rural power system that is very vulnerable to falling trees and branches.
The birds were all over the backyard this morning, almost before I was done filling the feeders. They know something’s coming, and they’re stocking up.