With storms almost daily, I can’t complain about the weather being boring. At the cabin, the aspen are just leafing out, about two weeks later than usual. (Was it the cold spring that delayed their coming out? Or maybe not enough sun to spur their growth?) When the trees first leaf out, they're tentative, as if not totally confident that snow won't return to freeze the leaves. Yet they emerge in bright colors, as if life is brazenly announcing itself.
With all the rain, cloudy skies and patches of snow on the high peaks, the landscape is two-toned: the lime-green aspen and the different shades of gray in the clouds. I can’t stop myself from soaking it all in and taking pictures, especially when I know these soggy days won’t last. It’s our wet season, with more rain than usual, almost an embarrassment of riches when wildfires are racing across Canada, bringing destruction to maritime provinces, such as Nova Scotia, that have rarely experienced them.
Meanwhile, here in Colorado, rivers are up to their banks, the ground is saturated enough that water pools in low-lying areas. With every new rainfall, water finds its way through the cabin roof and onto the wooden floor, which never gets a chance to dry. The front door is so swollen with water that it will hardly shut or open.
Can I be allowed to enjoy this deluge, especially when we’ve had too many summers with wildfires? All too soon, the skies will dry out, wringing out all the water from the ground and cabin, and the dry days and heat will return.
It's been a long time since I've seen things as riotously, gorgeously green as they've been in the last few weeks. Even my shrubs and trees that appeared dead from cold and drought are coming around, and I feel sorry for the guys who mow my lawn -- which seems to grow about an inch a day. I do worry when the local weather dudes caution about how all the excessively exuberant growth is going to dry into copious amounts of fuel for fires later this year. I am sorry to hear your cabin is taking damage from the moisture. It's a gem, a diamond in the rough that I wish would never change.
Posted by: SusanR | June 11, 2023 at 12:04 PM
thanks, Susan. I know what you mean about worrying that all this growth translates to danger when the weather starts getting drier. I guess we just need to enjoy this green spell while we can.
I like that you see my cabin as a diamond in the rough. It is very precious and could never be duplicated if something happens.
Posted by: Kathy Kaiser | June 22, 2023 at 04:09 PM
thanks, Susan. I know what you mean about worrying that all this growth translates to danger when the weather starts getting drier. I guess we just need to enjoy this green spell while we can.
I like that you see my cabin as a diamond in the rough. It is very precious and could never be duplicated if something happens.
Posted by: Kathy Kaiser | June 22, 2023 at 05:56 PM