Better wetter

Here in the States, children memorize all sorts of rhymes, even before we learn to read.  Among them,
Rain, rain, go away
come again some other day.

and....

April showers bring May flowers...

Once upon a time I'd fervently sing the first even while I deeply believed in the truth of the second.  It never occurred to me the two could be either contradictory or linked.  I was a child and questioned little that arrived wrapped in either a catchy tune or a rhyme.

After I became an adult, and especially after I began to garden, the nonsensical nature of both rhymes were fully revealed.  These rhymes simply don't apply, at least when it comes to life in the Lone Star state.

Because everywhere in Texas, when it comes to rain, there is no "other day". And as for May flowers, well....

Didn't wait for May, or rain

May flowers are late comers in our native landscapes.  Flowers here just west of Austin appear in early Spring, and to thrive they need a steady supply of winter rain showers.  Come February seeds are popping up and flower rosettes are trying to establish themselves, growing deep tap roots long before the bluster of April arrives.  

Nope - these guys didn't wait either

But this last February, we didn't get any measurable rain.  No rain in February means powdery dry soil and a hard slow start. A hard start can mean not much of a wildflower show in fields and along our roads.  With no February rains, local gardeners miss another cool weather month's worth of chances to sow seed, transplant established species and set in additional plants unless they are willing to provide supplemental watering along with covering tender growth from freezes.

I planted native milkweed seed here knowing I'd have to hand water the area for weeks with no guarantee of germination

Without fields filled with native flowers, we offer a very poor welcome for beleaguered native pollinators wakening from their winter slumbers.  A low bloom rate bodes ill for migratory visitors as well.  This year's display was in jeopardy.  We were running out of time for the rain we needed.

Pink Evening Primrose patch-to-be (also not waiting)

Enter my new favorite month, March.  Not only did March slide in on skids of mist and fog this year, but it just finished delivering us a gentle area wide three inches (or more) of soaking rain.

And not one day too soon.  

Give it a few more weeks and I'll be sneezing, shaking a facial tissue at the live oaks, March, and ruing the day, but for now?

For now I say thank you! Unlike February (my new least favorite month!) it is clear you read your job description and showed up ready to get to work.

Every flower and flower visiting creature to appear in the weeks to come all owe you a life saving debt. Here's to you, March.  You've gotten Spring 2015 off to a better, wetter start!

Farewell to March

I grabbed a few shots out back this morning (apparently I will NOT stay inside though I pay an increasingly higher price for each foray out of doors this time of year).

Folks, we need rain.  Here in Central Texas the temperatures are warming up, and with the wind blowing, the soil (and everything growing in it) is drying out fairly rapidly. I'm optimistic April will bring us some of the gentle watering everything needs.  However, my optimism is based on hope rather than any recent real world experience.  So just in case, as a reminder of what it all looks like here at the end of March, before the Hot Dry Season begins in earnest:

In like a lion

You've heard the saying "If March comes in like a lion it will go out like a lamb."?

Ellie, who lives across the street, often rushes to join me when I venture out front.  She is both a lion and a lamb!

Trying to nail down the origin of this saying (because I was hoping it has some basis in truth) I discovered two different sources.

One is a series of old almanac sayings based upon lines written in early English plays and poems reflecting a belief in the eventual balance of nature.  Nature may indeed balance out,  e-ven-tu-all-y... but as an impatient gardener with plants I want to survive short term, I find it very difficult to take much solace there.

Another source for the saying has not to do with the weather at all, but rather with the stars.  The saying reflects the position of the constellations at the beginning and the end of the month as they switch between Leo (the lion) and Aries (the ram).  I find no encouragement there either, but admit it is a more reliable predictor of what will happen, as opposed to what I wish for.

At any rate, after whining in conversations and emails for days about how much we need rain, I was happy to see (and hear) embedded showers moving over our area during the late afternoon and early evening this past Saturday.

Then the lion roared.  Along came hail, blasting down with the rain. Fortunately the ice pellets were not in our area long enough to cause much damage, and the near inch of precipitation we got here in Rollingwood will not go unrewarded.

Bluebonnets are already responding...

As is a lone Indian Paintbrush...

I'm keeping an eye out for more freezing weather, as I have lots of 4 inch pots in the greenhouse I am eager to transplant into the soil.  Because March is so very unpredictable, weather sayings aside, I will wait a little longer until we are past our typical freeze dates.  Then I will pin my hopes on yet another saying, that April showers will bring May flowers.