File this under "we can't all be perfect." The echinaceas are putting on a brave show, but they are definitely imperfect. Too much rain (before this last month, I would have said there couldn't be such a thing at MeadowKnoll), too many grasshoppers (with the mosquitoes, the corollary of too much rain), too much wind--it's all taking its toll on the petals and leaves. I love the combination of pale lavender and dark orange. And it's nice to see that the latest research reinforces the long-held belief in its effectiveness as a cold-fighter.
The rain has had all kinds of effects here. The grasses are thriving: in the east meadow, the native turkeyfoot bluestem is chest-high, and the yard is lush (especially the Johnson grass in the garden). The pecan crop looks promising, and the salvias are blooming up a storm. But the sumacs are turning autumn orange and yellow, stressed by too much water. The rosemarys are struggling, and the roses (yes, even the antique roses) are showing signs of black spot. And there's the road...but we won't go there. Enough to tell you that (after the garbage truck got stuck) we had to bring in a couple of loads of rock.
Several of you have asked why Bill is taking a vacation in New Mexico while I am here, watching the rain and working on a book. The short answer: he's not on vacation. He's doing restoration/preservation work on our log house, which is in serious need of it. Logs (like other natural things) are inherently imperfect, and they have a tendency to decay, as wood does, in nature. When you build a house out of them, their imperfections get built into the house, along with their natural desire to decay. If you want a "perfect" house, don't do logs. If you do logs, expect to preserve them. His problem: too much rain there, too. He can get outside to work only a few hours a day, between showers. (I hope he stays off the ladder when it's lightning!)
Funny thing: Bill has discovered that the drifts of what we thought were mouse droppings in the living area turned out to be bat droppings. Yep. We are sharing the NM house with a small colony of NM bats, which has taken up residence in the rafters. As long as they come and go without making a fuss about it (or trespassing on my personal space), I'm okay with them. I can sweep. Living in the country sometimes requires accomodating yourself--a Zen mind where you stay still and centered and let things take their natural course. (However, Bill is considering how best to chink the cracks.)
Reading note, from Gretchen Legler's On the Ice. She's writing about life in Antarctica:
In the end, you learn how not to fight...The master shapes events as they come. There is a time for being ahead, a time for being behind. The master does her job and then stops. Every day something is dropped. Less and less do you need to force things. The soft overcomes the hard. The slow overcomes the fast...When two great forces oppose each other the victory will go to the one who knows how to yield.