We have had absolutely beautiful fall weather since early September. We continued to have warm temperatures in the upper 70s and upper 80s and we even set a few daytime and overnight high temperature records. During that time, the trees displayed their beautiful fall colors.
Unfortunately, the beautiful weather included no measurable rain for the entire month of October. We made up for that with 4+ inches of rain last week, then 7 inches of rain last night, and severe thunderstorm and tornado warnings both times. I think that gets our area out of its drought status! The storms were followed by a cold front, so I don’t think we’re going to experience any more days in the upper 80s this year. It was wonderful while it lasted, but now it’s time for hot chocolate and snuggly sweaters and blankets.
*The title quote is attributed to William Cullen Bryant
Due to strong solar storms, a large portion of the United States had a rare opportunity to view the northern lights this spring. Friends and family from a number of states posted photos showing the stunning display. Ted and I drove north of the city to a dark field to see the show and this is what was visible to us. It was definitely underwhelming!
On our way home, we saw red and green lights overhead and Ted said, “There they are! The northern lights!”
On August 21, 2017, Ted and I, Kathy and Annette, and Kari and Dylan saw a total solar eclipse. In spite of weather forecasts for clear skies in Columbia, MO–halfway between Kathy and Annette and the rest of us–thunderstorms moved in, and we re-located eastward to Warrenton, MO to view that eclipse. It was so amazing, we decided right then to reserve April 8, 2024 for another family eclipse viewing.
It doesn’t seem possible that we made those plans seven years ago, but we followed through and planned a day in Perryville, MO for this event. Our same group gathered, and Theo joined us. In 2017, he decided to settle for the near-total eclipse at home with his school classmates, but the rest of us raved so much about the totality that Theo has also been looking forward to the 2024 eclipse for seven years–nearly half his lifetime!
Once again, weather adjustments had to be made for this eclipse, although not by our group. Early information advised the nation that, of the 15 U.S. states in the totality zone, Texas was the most likely to be clear in April; the Midwest was iffy, but was likely to be cloudy; and New England was likely to be overcast. In real time, Texas was overcast with thunderstorms in the forecast, and the Midwest and New England were clear. Lucky us!
We liked the way we viewed the eclipse last time in a small park in a small city with a picnic lunch, so we wanted to do that again. Ted and I made a trip to Perryville and to Jackson a few weeks ago to scope out the parks, the bathroom facilities, the viewing spaces, and the parking. Perryville City Park was the winner, so this time, we went to a small city (pop. 8,500), but a large park. It took Ted and me less than two hours to make the scouting drive to Perryville, but there were lots of advance warnings on newscasts and on electronic highway message boards in our area to expect heavy traffic on April 8–eclipse day. We decided an early start was the way to go. We all brought food to share and got an early start to Perryville, leaving home just after 7:30 a.m. for the 1:58 p.m. totality event.
That worked out well. The drive to Perryville on the Big Day took three hours instead of less than two hours, and the traffic was definitely heavier than usual, but it moved along at near the speed limit, and we arrived in plenty of time to easily find a parking spot. Unbelievable! As we were parking our two cars, Ted and I saw our next-door neighbors! We emptied our car trunks, selected our viewing area, and then relaxed for a little while and ate our picnic lunch before the start of the eclipse.
Some nearby eclipse viewers wanted a group photo of themselves and I offered to take it so that everyone in their group could be in the picture. They returned the favor for us.
Before we knew it, the time was 12:30 p.m.–the start of the eclipse. We checked the sky and, sure enough, there was a little bite out of the sun at about five o’clock. Repeated progress checks showed the moon blocking more and more of the sun. Our excitement level was rising. We had some high, thin clouds, but the eclipse was clearly visible through our eclipse glasses. It’s hard to believe, but I took this photo at the 50 percent point.
Between 50 and 75 percent of totality, the light in the park noticeably dimmed and became weird. Even in the sunshine, the blankets we were sitting on felt cool to the touch, there was a sudden cool breeze, and the temperature dropped 8-10 degrees–enough to make us feel chilly.
I put my eclipse glasses over my camera lens and took this picture at about 90 percent totality. The sun is so bright that even a mere 10 percent looks like this. I was hoping the eclipse glasses might show a clear view of the dark moon covering the sun, but cell phones aren’t that good yet. By this time we were all lying on our backs to get the best view of the sky; birds were quieting down; and outdoor lights had come on.
Shortly after this, the only visible part of the sun was a thin crescent, similar to a new moon. At that point, we could see the crescent becoming smaller and smaller. As the eclipse approached totality, the park filled with excited voices (including ours), there was an instant of a bright flash when the moon completely blocked the sun from view (the diamond ring), and in that instant, it was as if someone turned off the light switch. Near the end of the video, my camera view becomes erratic because I changed position from lying on my back to sitting up and I forgot my video was still recording. Turn on your sound to hear the excitement, and to watch the sun’s light dim.
In the video, my cell phone camera shows totality as a bright white circle with a black dot in the center. What we really saw was a full-moon-size pitch-black circle surrounded by a strong bright white ring, surrounded by the wispy white corona of the sun. I looked online for pictures that matched what we saw, but I didn’t find any. We (including our resident meteorologist) concluded that the strong white ring was a result of the high clouds over the sun in Perryville. Whatever caused that ring, it was a breathtaking, beautiful sight and the high point of our day. Totality in Perryville lasted a few seconds less than 4 minutes, so we had time to look around and enjoy it. Even so, it ended too soon. Here’s a picture of us in the dark. It’s 2:00 p.m. and the parking lot light is on in the background.
And here’s another picture during totality, but with the camera automatically adjusting the light for a “better” (?) picture.
I took a video of the 360-degree sunset during totality.
About five minutes after totality passed and the sun began to appear, we saw the weirdly-colored sunlight again. It looked like a storm was coming, except that the sky was blue.
When about 30 percent of the sun became visible, things looked more normal, and the sun looked bright again.
We stayed until the sun was fully exposed and then joined the crowds on our way home. Again, traffic moved steadily, just as it did on our way to Perryville–but at only 2-7 mph for three hours. We were excited to move forward at 10 mph for an occasional quarter mile before braking again. After three hours of this, we saw a gas station right beside I-55 and decided to stop. It took 15-20 minutes to drive down the exit ramp and cross I-55–about one-quarter mile. There were at least 100+ cars at the gas station and the bathroom line reached the convenience store door with people constantly arriving. This is about half of the gas station parking lot. You can see the backed-up traffic on the road in the right center of the picture. All four directions of this intersection were backed up like that. (Photo credit to Kari for this picture.)
We opened our ice chests and had a snack to fortify ourselves for the rest of our drive, then spent another 15-20 minutes getting back onto I-55. After another hour of slow, but steady, progress–we’d covered 50 miles in 4 hours!–we reached Festus, where I-55 adds a third lane (St. Louis metro area) and were finally able to travel near the speed limit for our last hour home, arriving at about 8:30 p.m. Kathy and Annette live about 3 hours beyond us, but encountered an accident that halted traffic on I-70, so they didn’t get home until 12:30 a.m.
All of us agreed that, if we’d known in advance how bad the traffic would be, we would still go to the eclipse. In 2017, we saw an amazing total solar eclipse, but this one was so-o-o-o much better! It was worth every minute of the experience–even the heavy traffic. The next total solar eclipse will be on August 12, 2026 and will be visible in Iceland. It might be worth making the trip.
P.S.
To celebrate the eclipse, Ted saw this picture of an eclipse snack on the National Weather Service Employees Facebook page. Start at the bottom with the full “sun” and move counterclockwise around the plate to view the Oreo eclipse.
Today, we are again under an air quality alert due to drifting smoke from the Canadian wildfires. Visibility at its worst was less than three miles. Our air quality is rated “poor,” indicating that everyone, not only people with special health issues, should avoid outdoor activities. Given the current conditions, is it necessary to ask . . .
We’ve had wonderful fall weather. It’s been clear and sunny with lots of days in the 70s and 80s. One day, I managed to get a short break from my “Keeping Up with the Contractors” to-do list, so I sat on the patio to read for a little while. I felt fortunate to have such great weather and such a pretty view in our back yard.
Biking and driving gave me lots of opportunities to enjoy all the fall colors–orange, red, and yellow everywhere.
One day, it was very windy, and that was the end of the fall colors. The leaves shifted from the trees to the ground. Oddly, the wind formed a pile of leaves under some of our lawn chairs, but swept the surrounding patio clean.
Ted raked all the leaves and sent them through his chipper. As the weather cooled, he moved most of the outdoor furniture into the storage shed. While we were in the yard, we noticed a fat woolly worm. Ted put his finger next to it for scale and I took a picture. Does this mean a bad winter? It’s hard to tell, because when Ted picked up the woolly worm to throw it into the grass, we discovered it was dead.
Fall was wonderful but, woolly worm or not, it’s time to get ready for winter.
Ted was fertilizing the backyard flowers today and thought they were so pretty, he took some pictures. These firecrackers have bushed out nicely and fill this flower bed.
The hibiscus tree produces fresh blooms every day. They open as the sun rises, close as the sun sets, then drop to the ground overnight. We’ve had as many as ten and as few as one bloom on a single day. Three to five new flowers daily is typical. The marigolds are great for keeping the bugs away while we sit around the pool.
These crepe myrtle bushes used to provide a privacy hedge around one end of the pool. Then we had a hard winter and most of the bushes died. These two survived, but they die back every winter and no longer grow tall enough to provide privacy. Ted didn’t want to throw them away, so he stuck them in the ground behind the storage shed where he keeps his brush pile until he has time to chip the brush into mulch. The bushes bloom every year, but the only way to view them in our yard is to walk behind the storage shed. I’m sure that chipping brush is a nicer task for Ted with some pretty flowers to look at while he works.
A week ago, the St. Louis area made the national news for the prodigious amount of rain we had in a 24-hour period. We weren’t really excited about breaking the 24-hour rainfall record by over 2 inches, but it happened. State and federal disaster aid is available to flood victims.
River floods are a result of heavy rain or rapidly melting snow upstream and affect areas along the riverbanks. Rainfall events are different: the rain falls faster than the ground and drainage systems can handle it, forcing it to accumulate in any low-lying area at the bottom of any hill. Unfortunately, we had three heavy rainfalls over short periods of time in fewer than seven days, severely affecting many homes and businesses. The owner of one business said his ground floor was covered by water three times in a week. Countless cars were completely submerged by flood waters. Because of the power of the moving water, rescue teams had to exchange smaller boats for larger ones.
Our rain gauge overflows at 5 inches, but the official reading for our area was 12 inches. Ted and I looked at the TV meteorologist’s map showing contour lines representing rainfall totals on a map of the metro area. We estimated that we fell in the 9-10 inch range. The following two rain events brought lesser amounts–around 2-3 inches each time, according to our rain gauge. After the St. Louis “practice session,” the storms moved into Kentucky and that state had far more flood damage than we did. Ted and I were fortunate. We had nothing worse than a very soggy lawn.
A few days after the last rainfall, Ted and I decided the Katy Trail was probably dry enough to bike. We headed for the Greens Bottom trail head and planned to bike westward to Weldon Spring–about 11 miles one way. We hadn’t thought about the fact that the rail trail on which the Katy is built runs along the Missouri River (low ground) and that it might have flooded, so we were surprised when we entered the trail and saw a sign announcing it was closed for flood damage repair.
The trail looked ok and there was plenty of room to bike past the warning fence, so we decided to try it. If it was washed out or blocked, we could always turn around. The first 2 miles were rough, but the trail rises gently in elevation from its eastern to its western terminus, so all was well after the first two miles.
The trail was badly rutted in several places. Obviously, the water was running from the trail into the creek.
There was a lot of accumulated debris on the upstream side of this bridge. The grader is ready to go.
Our first street crossing required dismounting and walking our bikes across. The ruts were 4-6 inches deep all the way across the trail.
This might have been a huge source of water runoff. The Katy runs along a limestone river bluff at Greens Bottom. The standing water at the bottom of this point of the rock wall led Ted and me to think that the rainfall from the top of the bluff tumbled down these rocks like a giant waterfall, then ran over the trail.
Our assumption about the water running down this bluff was supported by the piles of silt the bobcat piled up when workers cleared the trail. The arrow points to the base of the “waterfall” point in the above photo.
As we biked westward, we noticed a lot of trees that had been washed out by the heavy rain and the powerful flood waters. The Park Service has already been hard at work clearing the trail.
Along the way, we saw a volleyball that apparently floated away from its home and became stuck on a fencepost. Given its beat-up condition and the brand name facing us, we couldn’t help thinking “Castaway” and “Tom Hanks.”
We had to slow our biking speed for the first two miles in order to navigate around the ruts in the road, but the rest of our ride was smooth. It was another good 22-mile ride on the Katy with a flood adventure for added interest.
When I went outside a few days ago, I noticed a mushroom fairy ring growing in our neighbor’s yard. Then I saw another one in a nearby subdivision when I took a bike ride.
Fairy rings are sometimes seen as hazardous or dangerous, linked to witches or the Devil. On the other hand, they are also linked with good fortune. Take your pick. The rings can be 30 or more feet in diameter and can become stable over time as they grow and find food underground. I don’t think that will happen to this one. The lawn service mowers demolished it the following day.
Did anyone miss my “best of spring” award this year? I usually post it in April, when lots of trees are blooming and spring color is everywhere. This year, however, warm weather is avoiding us. The entire spring has been unusually cool. We also had not one, but two, hard frosts after the trees began to bloom. The frosts severely affected the profusion and color of the tree blooms. Although the trees were still pretty, I didn’t see anything unusually spectacular to qualify as a recipient of my annual award.
The cool weather continues. For example, the normal high for this time of year is 82 degrees, but I did the laundry today and had to wash several pair of over-the-ankle socks, jeans, and three-quarter sleeved shirts. I’m supposed to be washing shorts and short-sleeved T-shirts and few, if any socks, because it should be sandal weather.
Still, it’s not all bad news. The flowering bushes were barely budding with leaves when the frosts hit, and they have bloomed very nicely. As a result, this year’s Dr. D Spring Award goes to our own mock orange bush. In all the years we’ve had this bush, it has never been so covered with white blooms.
Unfortunately, a few days later, when the wind and rain returned, the flower petals fell like snow.
The anonymously planted iris blooms on the common ground near our house were also very pretty this year. They started blooming around only four rocks in 2018 and they now bloom around eleven rocks. I didn’t get a picture of them, but I did take a picture of the little twig that appeared beside the iris in 2021. It has grown a lot over the past year and is obviously a redbud tree. It will be gorgeous when it blooms if the grounds crew doesn’t cut it down.
I was cleaning out some photo files and found a picture I took from our backyard patio last October. This animal was relaxing on our neighbor’s back lawn. It looked kind of like a cat, but it was really big for a cat. A bobcat? I wondered. But the nose looked kind of pointy. Maybe a fox?
Then the animal turned its head and yes, it was a bobcat.
That was the first (and so far, the only) time I’ve seen a bobcat. It looked pretty laid back, but it didn’t seem like a good idea to get closer to pet it.
The high temperature of 85 degrees today broke the old record of 79 degrees. It’s time to get outside and play. First order of business: hit the road on our bikes. We spent an hour on a 14-mile bike ride around the neighboring subdivisions. Yippee!
Second order of business: Sit outside to enjoy the sunshine. Check!
Third order of business: a happy surprise. Ted knows how much I enjoy spring, so every year he buys me a pot of spring bulbs. This year, it was yellow tulips. Happy spring!
The November 19 lunar eclipse was billed as a partial eclipse. According to NASA, 99.1 percent of the moon was shrouded by the earth’s umbra (the darkest shadow) during mid-eclipse, making it very close to a total lunar eclipse. It was the longest partial eclipse of the century–between 2001 and 2100–lasting 3 hours and 28 minutes, and the longest eclipse in the past 580 years, according to the Holcomb Observatory. Lunar eclipses usually last about an hour, but this time, the moon was farther from the earth, so the earth cast a wider shadow and it took the moon longer to pass through that shadow. The peak of the eclipse occurred at 3:03 a.m. our time.
Ted and I are night owls (and we’re retired), so we stayed up for the eclipse and slept in the next morning. We went outside around 2:30 a.m. to watch the peak of the eclipse and planned to go back into the house by 3:04 a.m. That’s not what happened. The sky was so beautiful, we stayed outside for over an hour. With the moon in shadow and a crystal-clear night sky, we could see far more stars than we normally do. The moon was beautiful, the stars were beautiful, and the night was perfectly calm. It was, however, only 24 degrees and we were dressed in our pj’s and bathrobes with Crocs on our feet. After an hour, we admitted that, although it was still a beautiful sight, we were getting cold, so we went back into the house.
I love looking at stars and finding constellations. With the moon darkened, the stars were unusually bright, but they weren’t bright enough to see them well in the few photos I took. Only Orion and the dog star, Sirius, were strong enough to show in the black sky. In the photo below, that’s the fully eclipsed moon on the right (my cell phone camera picked up all of the moon’s radiant light, so it looks full), and Sirius is in the left center. Orion is in the middle. A few of the stars show well; all of them are visible if you zoom in on the photo–or maybe if you look at the photo in a dark room.
In the opposite direction, we could see every star in the Big Dipper. Usually, there are at least two stars that can’t outshine the city light pollution. I don’t recall ever seeing the Big Dipper in a vertical position, but I don’t often check the night sky at 3:00 a.m. At this time of night, the handle rose directly upward from the horizon and the dipper was above it. It was easy to find the North Star to locate the Little Dipper, but even with the moon dark, I couldn’t see all seven stars in that constellation. I found Cassiopeia, but couldn’t see the Seven Sisters (aka the Pleiades), my favorite constellation. They might have been lower in the sky, behind a tree or a house.
This was a stunning lunar eclipse and a perfect night for viewing it. Theresa Massony, the author of an article I read about this eclipse wrote, “This lunar eclipse is not to be missed, unless you have time to wait a whole century for the next one.” So true! Ted and I took the time to watch this one. If we’re still around in 2100, we’ll catch that one too.
The high temperature at our house was 82 degrees today. It was a good day for a bike ride and the fall colors are at their peak, so Ted and I mounted up and admired the yellows, oranges, and reds in our neighborhood.
I mentioned in years past that I think everyone in this area planted at least one redbud for its spring flowers (we planted three) and at least two burning bushes (we have six) for their fall color. This house is near ours and has two old, huge burning bushes growing side-by-side. What a display!
The pictures below tell the story. Enjoy the yellow, orange, and red colors.
Here’s a tree that’s losing its leaves from side-to-side. According to this tree, fall is half over.
As we biked the last mile, we saw this view at one of the lakes near our house. It shows a variety of colors in a single scene.
Fall is coming and the leaves on the trees are beginning to change their colors. I used to love looking at our sugar maple tree in the fall, but since I can’t do that any more, I have to settle for looking at Larry’s sugar maple tree across the street. A mature sugar maple stood where you see a small tree on the right, but it died the year after ours did and, like us, Larry had it cut down, then replaced it with a new tree.
After a nice stretch of warm weather (mid- and upper 70s), our thermometer topped out at 87 degrees today. The official high was a few degrees lower, but we live here, not at the airport. Tomorrow’s high is supposed to be somewhere in the 50s–quite a change. To celebrate this last day of summer-like weather, the flowers in our yard put on a showy display of blooms.
Ignore the deadheads on the rosebushes and just admire the blooms. The plants are going to succumb to frost pretty soon, and we’ll have to cut the roses back, so deadheading at this time of the year is low on the to-do list. Here are the knockout roses and two beds of carpet roses. Mind you, it’s almost Hallowe’en and these bushes are putting out blooms as if it’s late June.
The hibiscus tree has given us anywhere from 1-10 fresh blooms every day all summer. (The flowers only last one day.) Today, it had seven blooms–again, just as if October = summer. Check out all the buds that haven’t opened yet. Will they make it before the temperature drops to freezing? The whitish edges on the flowers prove that it’s fall. That effect has been increasing as the daylight has been decreasing. Apparently, tropical flowers depend on a lot of daylight to look their best.
I’m not one of those people who gets all excited about fall, pumpkin spice, and sweater weather. In fact, I’m getting ready to count down to the first day of spring, but meanwhile, today’s weather was awesome!
Today, Thom and Katie took us to Ohme Gardens, an alpine-style state park in Wenatchee. Here’s how the website description of the park begins.
In 1929, Herman Ohme purchased 40 acres of land for an orchard. Among that acreage was a craggy, dry, desolate, rock-strewn bluff with a breathtaking view of the snow-capped Cascade Mountains and the Columbia River valley.
Herman and his new bride, Ruth, loved to stand on that bluff and dream of flourishing alpine meadows, shimmering pools and shady evergreen pathways where the hot, relentless summer sun allowed only sage and scrub desert growth. They set their minds on achieving that dream.
www.ohmegardens.org
The alpine garden was intended to be a family retreat, but the interest of friends and community members prompted the Ohmes to open the park to the public. It was later sold to Washington State Parks to be preserved for future generations. We had a pleasant afternoon, walking through the gardens and enjoying Ruth and Herman’s dream.
We walked up and down pretty hillsides and beside peaceful pools.
On one hillside, there was a watchtower that Sefton liked. It was open on all four sides. This side of the watchtower provides a view of Wenatchee, the mountains, and the Columbia River valley. We could see the rock outcropping that lies just above Thom and Katie’s house, but it’s too far to the right to be visible in this photo.
All of us except Hadley spent a few minutes looking at this pool. Hadley didn’t see much of the park because she was sleeping. Being adorable all the time tires a girl out.
Throughout the gardens, there were hidden gnomes and fairies. A map of the gardens indicated the areas in which gnomes and fairies could be found and if a visitor (Sefton, for example) could find all of them, that visitor could check them off on his map, turn the map in to the attendant at the gift shop, and get a sticker. Sefton found all the gnomes and fairies and earned his sticker.
After we returned to the house, it was Hadley’s and my turn to watch a GBC (Great Ball Contraption) Lego video with Sefton. Hadley was tired again from being adorable, so she didn’t see much of the show. You can tell she’s asleep because she has her nose buried against my chest. As long as I could hear her breathing, I knew everything was good.
After watching the YouTube GBC Lego videos, Sefton had to show me the GBC he built. His GBC didn’t have moving parts (he gets a break here–he’s only four), so he held one of his GBC balls in his hand and took it over the contraption’s course as he explained to me what was happening at each point along the route. Notice all the Lego he has in the drawer under his bed.
Meanwhile, pursuing a different kind of intellectual activity, Ted and Thom went out to the back yard and finished installing an RHC (Ring and Hook Contraption) that provides a way to pass the time as well as a challenge. The ring is attached to a cord connected to the post. You pull the ring back, let it go, and hope it catches on the hook. I tried it a few times and knew immediately that we’d be waiting a lo-o-ong time for me to get the ring on the hook, so I went back to holding Hadley.
For dinner, Thom cooked wood-fired pizza in their portable wood-fired pizza oven. Because it’s portable, the family can take it along when they travel in their Sprinter van. The oven reaches approximately 750 degrees and a pizza can be cooked in about two minutes. Unfortunately, Thom was reaching for something and bumped the back of his elbow on the oven chimney. The result was a pretty bad burn. You can see the bandage on his arm. Aside from that, you can’t go wrong with pizza for dinner–especially wood-fired pizza.
We’re having such a good time with our family, we’re already looking forward to our next visit.
I’ve mentioned before how much I’m enjoying the little hibiscus tree I bought for the summer. It was worth every penny for the joy it brings with its daily blooms. The blooms only last one day, but it’s always covered with buds. They begin to open when the sun rises and they begin to close at dusk. The following day, they self-deadhead and drop to the ground. We usually have 4-6 blooms at a time but, one day, we had eight and today we set a record of nine blooms. I’m planning to buy another hibiscus tree next spring.
It’s been a cool, wet spring around here. Normal high temperatures should be in the 80s by now–and every now and then we actually get a day in the 80s. I’m such a sucker, I fall for it every time and say, “Spring is probably here for real now,” and then the temperatures drop into the upper 50s and lower 60s for highs, and the rains return. This will be one of those years that we go from winter to summer–suddenly it will be hot every day without the gradual warming of March, April, and May. The April 20 frost finished off all the spring-blooming trees, but the rain we’ve been getting has been good for the summer flowers. Our yard is looking flower-y cheerful these days.
The roses have been blooming for a few days, but I had to wait for the rain to stop to take pictures. The knockout roses are looking good.
The carpet roses are bushier than usual–maybe thanks to the rain.
This group of roses was gorgeous about five days ago but, again, I had to wait for the rain to stop to get a decent picture.
The poolside dahlias are becoming bushy.
The day lilies will bloom all summer, but the first blooming always has the most flowers at one time.
My favorites are the hibiscus tree and the marigolds. I love seeing these while I’m working at the kitchen sink.
The snapdragons will provide a variety of color in front of the hydrangea bush, which will bloom in two or three weeks.
Maybe it takes winter to make the spring and summer colors look so good. I’m loving it.
In 2018, an anonymous person planted some iris on the common ground area closest to our house. The flowers were a pleasant surprise when I took my daily walk and I’ve been looking forward to them every spring since 2018. At first, the iris looked like this photo. The arrow shows where the planting stopped–at the fourth rock.
Last year, I noticed some additional iris plants at the next two rocks. This year, the bed is expanding even more. The turquoise arrow shows one of the 2020 additional plants–a white iris. The green arrow shows a new 2021 iris (not blooming), and the orange arrow shows something different: a little shrub. The yellow arrow points to where the floral display now ends–at the eleventh rock. I wonder if the plan is to eventually plant something at every rock.
Here’s a closer look at the new shrub. I assume the gardener painted the top of the stake red so the grounds crew wouldn’t mow the little bush. It’s not blooming, but I hope it will be a blooming bush. Maybe next year.
Meanwhile, the original purple iris at the first four rocks continue to thrive and I continue to enjoy them when I walk by.
Three years ago, we planted an arborvitae hedge. The trees on each end are doing very well, but the trees in the middle don’t want to grow. One tree died in the first year and was replaced under the warranty, but now we have four trees in the center area that are failing. The difference in size between the trees on the ends and those in the middle is obvious. You can’t see between the end trees, but there’s lots of space between the stubby center ones–just where we want the privacy. The trees were all planted at the same time except for the totally brown one, which was replaced after the first year. The replacement lasted about 18 months. That spot in the ground has now killed two trees in three years. When we ordered this round of replacements, the landscaper suggested having the crew overdig the holes and put in new soil.
The landscaper’s suggestion made us think a soil test might be a good idea. I thought we’d have to go through the county extension service, or at least a nursery, to get an expert to perform a soil test. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but when I searched online for someone to do a soil test, I discovered that soil test kits are available at–where else?–Wal-Mart.
This is the stuff included in the testing kit. As I set out the instructions, the soil samples, the test tubes, the chemistry tablets, the distilled water, and the color chart, I felt like Bill Nye the Science Guy. All I needed was safety goggles. It brought back memories of high school chemistry class when we did experiments on Fridays.
Soil testing isn’t hard, but it’s definitely time-consuming. It took me about four hours to test six soil samples. The results showed that our troubled center section of arborvitae trees could use some pH and a lot of nitrogen, and our magnolia trees could also benefit from some nitrogen. Ted bought some nitrogen and treated the magnolia trees. The landscaper’s plan to add new soil might solve the arborvitae problem, but I guess we’ll have to test the new soil to find out.
It’s time for the Dr. D Spring Award. One of the reasons I love spring in Missouri is because we have so many blooming trees. There’s beauty wherever you drive in the spring. This year, I had more than the usual number of contestants because not many trees were affected by the late frost.
I don’t know what kind of tree this is, but there are a lot of them in the area and they have very thick white flowers. You can see a redbud peeking over the white tree.
Here’s a flowering crabapple tree.
The white dogwoods are always pretty, especially when they are sprinkled throughout a wooded area.
Pink dogwoods are gorgeous. I’m not crazy about the setting, but this is a beautiful pink dogwood.
This is another flowering crabapple tree. The color is so vivid!
The judge’s (my) decision was really tough this year. I finally decided to include a new category and named this stunning star magnolia the first runner-up in this year’s spring show.
For the first time, the winner is a group of trees. It was a tough decision, but the color and scope these redbuds display to passers-by (and my love of redbuds) gave this group the edge to be named this year’s best display. Presenting . . . the Dr. D Spring Award.
As Ted and I were taking our walk one day, we noticed fossil imprints in the concrete. We identified them as leaf imprints from ancient oak and maple trees.
Ted and I estimated these fossil imprints to be at least 15-20 years old, dating back to the last time the street was repaired with new concrete.
Ten consecutive days of warm, sunny weather have added signs of spring to Ted’s and my walking route: green-again grass, tulips and daffodils beginning to bud, one patch of daffodils in full bloom, magnolia trees budding and beginning to bloom, and red maples dropping their red blossoms on the streets where we walk.
Oh, happy day! It’s definitely spring. Temperatures are in the 60s and Ted and I saw tulips along our walking route.
Ted made a trip to the hardware store this afternoon and he also made an unscheduled stop to buy me his traditional spring gift. He knows how much I love spring. There are six yellow tulip buds in the pot and I’m looking forward to every one of them.
Is it any wonder I keep hanging out with this guy?
Last week, Ted and I decided to bike the Busch Greenway, which starts in the Busch Wildlife Conservation Area (recently re-populated with raccoons and opossums) and passes through the MO Research Park (where Ted used to work) before connecting with the Katy Trail. Although we’ve biked this trail before, we always see new things. This time it was wild turkey nests and an odd tree.
We had above-average rainfall all year through September. To comfort us, the experts told us we’d have beautiful fall foliage as a result of all the rain. They were right. The fall colors this year are stunning! The reds are brilliant and the yellows are bright. It’s been a delight to see so much gorgeous color wherever we go.
From our back yard, we can admire these colors in the yards of the three neighbors behind us.
Biking through the neighboring subdivisions, we saw these.
And this red, red, red, display was in a nearby restaurant parking lot.
When we went to Pilates at the community college last week, we saw “Camelot trees.” One of the songs from Camelot includes the words:
Well, here’s how it looks when the leaves fall in neat little piles. They will probably blow away tonight.
P.S. When the redbuds were gloriously blooming one spring, I mentioned that I think nearly everyone in the metro area planted at least one redbud tree in their yard. With the burning bushes so obviously red this year, I’d like to add that I think everyone in the metro area planted at least one redbud tree and at least two burning bushes in their yard.
Ted and I saw this pretty maple tree on our bike ride today. There’s a Canadian goose standing on some wood in the lake and there was a blue heron doing the same thing just to the right of my photo, but he flew away while I was getting off my bike. I miss our maple tree.
Ted and I like having flowers around our patio–especially some marigolds to keep bugs away so we can sit outside and enjoy the summer weather.
We had our landscape mulch replaced with lava rocks and a heavy weed-resistant tarp. We didn’t want to move the rocks aside and cut holes in the tarp to plant flowers (and let the weeds through), so we looked for planters that would be low enough for the irrigation system to do the watering work for Ted. We had no luck, and decided to try storage boxes at the bargain price of two for $4.00 at Wal-Mart. We drilled some drainage holes in the bottoms, added potting soil and plants, and put the box covers underneath to catch excess water and escaping soil. The idea turned out very well. Now that we know it works, we’re going to build or buy more attractive frames next year and we might even drop the storage boxes into the frames.
The flowers are pretty enough that they attracted a butterfly that hovered over them for about 20 minutes while I watched it.
I am not a gardener. All the credit for flower care in our yard goes to Ted. The only thing I like about gardening is looking at the flowers.
For the 10 years we’ve had this plant, I thought it was a rhododendron. Thanks to Katie for educating me and pointing out the differences between rhododendrons and hydrangeas. Our hydrangea plant is especially pretty this year.
In 2018, I was excited to see anonymously planted irises on a common ground near our house; in 2019, I designated an unusual redbud tree as a special sign of spring. This year, the designated “Dr. D Spring Award” goes to the fullest, pink cherry tree I’ve ever seen. Beautiful!
Ted and I went out to lunch last week. At the doorway to the restaurant, we saw daffodils. Yes! The hard, cruel winter is nearly over. This is coming from someone who spent half of the winter season in a warm climate. Not to mention that NOAA reported we’ve just had the warmest winter on record. Still, daffodils. Spring is my favorite season.
The entire island of Komodo, Indonesia is a national park, and the main attraction of the park is its wildlife. The ground in the park is very dry and dusty, and the vegetation cannot be described as “verdant.” The island receives an average of four inches of rain per year. Given all this, how can it be so humid?
The picture below is a typical view in the park.
The solitary tree in the photo below (a type of palm) grows only once, meaning that it sprouts, matures, produces fruit, and dies. Its life cycle is about 35 years. This tree is in the fruit stage.
One kind of tree has thorns along one edge of its branches.
In this picture, you can see the stone-bordered path that we were required to stay on.
Komodo is an island, so there are beaches. One of today’s excursions was a visit to the pink coral beach, but Ted and I chose to go to the national park.
We saw a variety of the park’s famous wildlife. Beginning with the least dangerous and working up to the most dangerous, we saw a large beehive (the dark splotch on the tree trunk). The bees provide honey for the animals.
Look carefully in the shade of the trees just to the right of center in this picture and you’ll see a Timor deer lying on the sand. Komodo is in the Timor Sea.
The park rangers call this path the “animal highway.” It is a main route to the largest watering hole in the park. The dark object in the middle of the highway (left photo) is a sitting wild boar facing us. We stayed quiet, the boar got “boar-ed” (insert groan here), and you can see it walking away from us in the right photo.
The biggest wildlife attraction in the park is the Komodo dragon, which exists only on four Indonesian Islands, including Komodo. The dragons are a combination of snake and crocodile and are very dangerous. They can grow to 8-10 feet long and weigh up to 200 pounds. One of the large ones in the photos below is about 35 years old.
Komodo dragons can take down animals as large as a water buffalo and can move very quickly for short distances. Their teeth have the ability to re-grow if they are broken from hunting or eating. The saliva of the Komodo dragon contains fourteen kinds of poisonous bacteria, and they kill by attacking with their teeth, injecting their prey with saliva. It can take as long as two weeks for the bacteria to take down a large animal.
Because the dragons are so dangerous, a tour guide wasn’t enough; two experienced park rangers were with us to keep us safe from the wildlife. When the rangers spotted some dragons (they camouflage themselves very well and look like logs), one ranger took a stick and drew a circle around them about twenty feet from where they lay in the dirt. We were warned not to cross that line because the dragons have a keen sense of smell and would attack us if they felt threatened.
There are five dragons in this picture. They are arranged in a triangle (not deliberately, but for my descriptive purpose). Three are piled on each other (like puppies?) at the upper left of the triangle, one is on the left of the large center tree trunk, and one is at the front corner of the triangle. The long brown splotch to the right of the tree trunk is a tree root. From a distance, you can’t be sure: tree root or Komodo dragon?
There are also five dragons in this picture: two piled together in the front, one behind them beside the tree, and two more snuggled together off to the right.
Naturally, as we left the park, the path took us through the market, aka gift shop. The vendors are very aggressive as they try to sell their wares. I thought we were safe after getting through this tent, but the path zigzagged back twice more and we had to go through two more markets.
It was hot in Komodo. Eighty-eight degrees and 300% humidity (or so it seemed). We were in the shade throughout the park, but in our 45-minute walk through the park, Ted and I drank four bottles of water and didn’t have to pee. We were fortunate. One man collapsed from the heat and was carried out on a stretcher and immediately transported back to our ship. Two other people in our group left the park in wheelchairs because of heat exhaustion. I believe there were seven or eight groups of people who chose to participate in this excursion, and I assume people in other groups had some heat issues as well.
Waiting for the tender was worse. With only our umbrellas to provide shade, we stood in line on a concrete pier for about 30 minutes before we could board the tender to return to our ship. Some people farther ahead in the line waited nearly an hour as the blazing sun was reflected off the concrete and water. Everyone we’ve spoken with about this excursion enjoyed it, but everyone admits they’ve never been so hot and have never sweated so much in their lives. My suggestion: group us by tender-loads on shore in the shade of the trees. When the tender arrives, send us out onto the fiery pier a group at a time.
The day ended beautifully on our stateroom balcony. Ted thought the sunset was so pretty, he took a picture. Then it got better, so he took another one. We both think it’s the most beautiful sunset we’ve ever seen.
It’s fall, so once again, I’m enjoying some little traditions in the neighborhood.
Our sugar maple tree becomes a colorful lawn ornament.
Our neighbor’s maple tree does its three-stage process. First the top turns color. When the upper leaves begin to fall (they’re doing it now), the middle band turns color. When they fall, the lower third turns color (it’s still greenish at the bottom). When the bottom leaves fall, the tree is ready for winter.
Every fall, Kari and Ted wax her car together. They just finished, and the van’s paint is protected for the winter.
Ted bought me a bouquet of a dozen pink and white roses. The pink ones opened normally, but the white ones kept opening, and opening, and opening, . . . They were huge! Out of curiosity, I measured them with a ruler. The pink ones were a normal 2.5 inches, but the white ones were a little more than 5 inches in diameter. They are definitely the largest roses Ted has ever brought me. I guess his love for me is still growing.
Last spring, I noticed some anonymously planted iris along the road a short distance from our house. Since irises are very prolific, I looked forward to seeing even more purple blooms this year, and I was well rewarded.
Last year’s irises.
This year’s irises.
The rock barrier along the road borders a large common ground with a lake. In addition to these four iris-decorated rocks, I noticed that the next four rocks also have irises planted near them. They are not blooming, but I hope to see an extended floral display next spring. Thank you to whoever is sharing the joy of spring flowers in our subdivision.
I saw an article in USA Today that reported one-quarter of the West Antarctic ice sheet has been classified as “unstable.” According to the article, the ocean water in front of the glacier is too hot, causing the underside to melt where it grinds against the seabed. This allows the glacier to slide more quickly into the ocean and to become thinner.
My question is: How does anyone know where West Antarctica is? Every direction from the South Pole is north. Once you are north of the South Pole, moving in a clockwise direction around the pole will take you eastward, just like it does in the rest of the world; counterclockwise will take you westward. Where’s the starting point? Obviously, “West” Antarctica is an agreed-upon arbitrary area.
What a beautiful spring we’re having–lots of rain, and no late frosts. Everything is blooming so well, and the blooms are lasting a long time. Our lilac tree is in full bloom now and it smells absolutely delicious!
Given the number of beautiful redbud trees in full bloom this week, I’ve concluded that nearly everyone in the St. Louis area planted at least one redbud tree in their yard. (We used to have three, but two died.)
I’ve always been fascinated by a certain redbud tree up the street from us. In all the years we’ve lived here, it continues to thrive in its own style. Most redbud trees have a “normal” tree shape with an upright trunk and spreading branches, but not this one. Today, I officially designated this nonconformist tree as the winner of my “Most Interesting Redbud Tree” award. (There is no cash prize.)
I love to see all the blooming trees in the spring. It makes every road I drive a pretty sight. It also makes our yard beautiful.
We have another magnolia like this beside the driveway. They bloom beautifully, but they’re as eager for spring as I am and usually get hit by one more frost. Thank goodness, this year was an exception, so we could enjoy the blooms longer.
The sand cherry bushes around the pool fence are in full bloom now.
This is our redbud tree in bloom and two of three of a different variety of magnolias in our back yard that are just beginning to bloom.
The front yard magnolia and this cherry tree are my favorites.
Spring. It’s my favorite season, and I’m loving it!
