February 24, 2017
Dear Everyone:
We’ve been having
a lovely spot of rain lately.
Too much rain, in some people’s opinion.
Rain gauges overflowing.
Reservoirs
overflowing. Streets turning
into rivers. Huge
potholes
opening up in the middle of busy freeways at the most inopportune times.
The usual too-much-of-a-good-thing.
Earlier this
week, while I was watching TV one evening, we kept being interrupted by
the
Emergency Alert System (EAS), announcing repeatedly that certain
areas were in danger of flooding.
It’s times like this that I’m thankful that I live on top of a
large hill.
It’s also times
like this that I hope said hill will definitely NOT decide to suddenly
slide down into the freeway below.
So far, so good.
I even think I
heard, unofficially, of course, that the official
five-year-drought might actually be “officially” over.
Nevertheless, keep conserving water whenever possible.
Of course.
There’s plenty of
snow in the mountains again, too.
Dozens of feet of snow.
Snow drifts higher than some buildings.
Resorts
are happily planning on staying open well into the summer months.
In the meantime,
the hills are all shades of green.
It’s difficult to resist the temptation to take pictures because
green hills like that are so rare around here.
The green-ies and
the grow-ies are all budding, blooming and blossoming their ducky little
hearts out. The
wild mustard
is rampant everywhere. And
everybody’s allergies are kicking into overdrive.
A good time to stock up on
antihistamines.
In other words,
Spring has Sprung, unofficially, of course.
Just last Monday,
my entire patio was under water for a while.
The inundation was not quite high enough to endanger the living
room carpet. But it was deep
enough for me to step out in my bare feet and “nudge” leftover
birdseed
out towards the fence with a broom, instead of having it accumulate
under the stand where it usually sits long enough to achieve semi-solid
status. As an
anthropologist, it’s fascinating to see how quickly detritus can
consolidate into layers that seem to “grow” of their own accord into
small hills. As a homeowner,
I’d just a soon it didn’t.
And there’s a lot
of it. For some reason
little birds become quite ravenous whenever it rains.
I’m sure some instinct tells them that this is the optimum time
to gorge on food wherever they can find it.
My patio is a good place to find food for our little feathered
friends.
In the meantime,
it’s been nearly sunny all day.
Everything is drying out.
The hills will turn to their usual “golden” (spelled b-r-o-w-n)
hue soon enough. Best to
enjoy it while we can.
And stock up on
Kleenexes, too.
Love, as always,
Pete
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