rain

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ORANGE-COLOURED MUSINGS

Rain gauges have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember – this is not surprising as my father was a part-time farmer and it was important for him to know how much rain had fallen during the week while he was away. At first he used an empty jam tin and measured the rain with a ruler! Once he could afford one, he had one similar to this one I have in my garden:

Did you know that a rain gauge is also known variously as an udometer, a pluviometer, an ombrometer, and a hyetometer? Useful words for the next quiz you become involved in. We were very excited to see so much rain (67mm) had fallen here during the two weeks we had spent in Hout Bay.

From rain water to drinking. This is a bubbly orange drink I had the other day:

I don’t often drink fizzy drinks, but occasionally one feels that it is just the ‘right’ thing to have. Should this feeling come at around the end of the day, I would rather drink a beer or even a gin and tonic – it’s all in the bubbles you see.

At this time of the year the vibrant trumpet-shaped blossoms of the golden shower creeper (Pyrostegia venusta) drape themselves all over some of the trees in my garden. We inherited them and in thirty-five years I have yet to see where they have originated – our large garden is that much of a jungle in places. They are attractive to bees, butterflies, and a variety of birds including sunbirds:

While I was in Norway, my family gave me a pair of two silicone little men whose job it is to keep a pot from boiling over by lifting the lid a little. My granddaughters call them ‘dead men’ as they have crosses for eyes:

This brings to mind the opening stanza of Sixteen Dead Men by William Butler Yeats:

O but we talked at large before

The sixteen men were shot,

But who can talk of give and take,

What should be and what not

While those dead men are loitering there

To stir the boiling pot?  

An aloe I have frequently featured is this Aloe ferox which grows outside our lounge window. This means that I can watch the bees and other insects, as well as a variety of birds visiting it from the comfort of indoors:

My mother used to call them montbretia. I have always wanted some of these indigenous flowers in my garden, but could never find them in our local nursery. Imagine my delight when, several years ago now, I found a single Crocosmia aurea (also known as falling stars) growing in a rather neglected part of my garden – this must be thanks to a bird which must have feasted on seeds elsewhere in the neighbourhood. These plants also attract birds and butterflies. The clump has become fairly large and I look forward to their blossoms every year:

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A DAMP DECEMBER MORNING

We woke to thick mist casting a white mantle over the garden – not surprising, for last night we enjoyed the rare treat of rolls of thunder and flashes of lightning that turned the sky purple. Such joy it is then to find almost 20mm rain in the gauge – an amount worthy of photographing!

The excessive heat along with the lack of water has put paid to most flowers in the garden. I was thus surprised to see these poppies providing a brave show of colour.

They are among the few successes I have had with growing plants from seeds so far. The marigolds all shrivelled and died once they had put out their first proper leaves – the rain came too late for them, but I shall try again. Meanwhile, the Pompon trees – many of which are self-seeded – have put on a magnificent show this summer, filling our garden with pink delight. They have passed their peak now, yet there are still patches of new blossoms to enjoy.

The other great delight was the later than usual return of the Lesser-striped Swallows. They have deliberated long and hard about the best site for their mud nest. The rains have come at the right time for them and they have made good progress this week at the site of the original nests that have been built here for the past twenty-odd years. They need to complete the cup and then build the tunnel.

I had to negotiate the damp garden path with care in order to photograph the carpet of yellow Tipuana flowers from the tree in our neighbour’s garden. They became very slippery when wet!

While I was walking around our delightfully damp garden, I heard the clopping of hooves of a small group of the Urban Herd walking along the road next to our front fence.

You might just make out some of the lilac Jacaranda tree blossoms that are strewn across the road.

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A RANGE OF PATTERNS

Whenever I scroll through my photographs I am surprised at the number of patterns that jump out at me. At the risk of boring readers with yet another lot, I have a few more to show. The first are raindrops on the grass. There is a great delight in these shining drops for we received some unexpected rain last week – enough to green up the grass on my unmown lawn and to give the flowers in the garden a ‘lift’:

After the rain comes sunshine and these patterns shining on the side of our swimming pool caught my eye. The pool was filled with grit and leaves after the rain:

Thanks to the ongoing drought, it is a while since I have been able to enjoy large marigolds in the garden. None of the many seeds planted this year have shown a sign of sprouting. Nonetheless, I enjoyed finding this picture in my archives:

I have shown several Eucalyptus trees of late; here is a closer look at the leaves of one of the trees growing around the corner from where I live:

Next is a picture regular readers may be familiar with. This is Bryan, the angulate tortoise that came to live in our garden for some time until eventually the desire to travel on overcame him. I love the pattern on his shell:

Lastly, I cannot resist adding this stained glass window: