Thursday, April 5, 2012

Filling the Rain Barrel

or Resources

I remember the day when it rained last April.  We had a thundershower, the first one of the year.  It lasted for fifteen minutes or so and dried up just as quickly; its droplets clung to the 'Bright Gem' tulips until the sun came out.  The storm gave us 3/100 of an inch of moisture.

Tulipa batalinii 'Bright Gem'

It was also, if I recall correctly, the last rainstorm until the end of July.

With drought gnawing at the bones of the southwest and Texas last year, news channels were full of stories about sinking reservoirs and cracked river beds (and fires, and fires, and fires).  One story I read online had a comments section, and a commentator from somewhere back east wrote in about the virtues of rain barrels.  We should all get rain barrels, he said, and that would help reduce demand on the water supply.  Others chimed in, agreeing, full of ideals and good will.  Finally one Texan said laconically, "You have to have rain to fill a rain barrel."  And that pretty much ended the discussion.

When your experience of drought is "less rain than normal"—a shower every couple of weeks rather than every few days, a quarter of an inch rather than a whole one—it's hard to grasp the idea of no rain at all.  Eking out resources is only something you can do if you have resources to begin with, not if you have none. 

Last year my empty rain barrel kept blowing over in the wind and damaging things, so I just set it on its side, out of the way, for most of the summer.  Black widows took shelter undisturbed in the shade beneath it.  When I stood it upright in July, a cloud of dust slid off.

This year, however, the rain barrel is not going to blow over.  On Monday night raindrops began doing a slow tango on the roof; Tuesday morning the dance was still carrying on.  By the time I'd finished my tea before breakfast the rain had turned into a swandive of fat, heavy snowflakes that splashed and rippled in the birdbath.   In the damper climates where I've lived the day would have been all too ordinary, a dreary disappointment strong on umbrellas and weak on cheer.  Here the umbrella stayed home, because getting wet was pure pleasure.  The gray skies and slushy streets had the magic of possibility to them.  Surely anything out of the ordinary can happen, you feel, in a spring when it rains and snows, and the streets are wet.

The snow lasted through the morning, all but an inch of it melting on contact, and then the clouds drifted off on their own.  The storm gave us .81 inches of moisture:  27 times the yield of our storm last April.  We have resources to eke out.  The rain barrel is full, and nothing needs watering.  The ground is wet, deep down among the roots.

The next day as I was tidying some blown twigs out of the garden, I noticed that one of the big sand cherry's branches had gotten caught between the boards of the bench.  I bent down to release it and set free a shower of white petals and fragrance.  As I stood up clouds of blossom slid off me, brushing my fingertips as they floated down.  The ground was already covered with the petals that had fallen during the rain.

Spring is never quite so beautiful, I think, as in those showers of petals as the blossoming ends, the snow-white storms of them drifting past and glinting in the light.  Such short-lived abundance, so full of possibility.  Tiny green cherries are already beginning to form on some of the branches. 

Our 81/100 of an inch of moisture may be just as short-lived as the blossoms and wither away just as surely in the spring sunshine.  Still, even a few resources can open the door to all kinds of possibilities.  It's early to be looking ahead, but after all, the sand cherries are.

This summer—maybe this summer will be one of abundance.

27 comments:

  1. That is some seriously precise measuring, Stacy. Does 3/100 of an inch even count? That's like a film isn't it? Or a light dew? The fields about the Priory already have a very slight brown tinge in places due to the lack of rain and I've had to re-fill the two rain butts by the greenhouse. Kind of defeats the point, doesn't it? And some forecast rain the other day resulted in four or five drops which I distinctly felt on my forehead. Not even 3/100 of an inch. Dave

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    1. Dave, we definitely have a penny-pinching approach to rainfall around here. I watched a show about one of Washington's national parks (Olympic, maybe?), where they get around 12' of rain a year, and they don't even bother with fractions of inches at all. A good rule of thumb is that for every 1/100 of an inch of rain, the patio furniture cushions will be too wet to sit on for 10 minutes. Two rain butts ahead of the hosepipe ban...with all those new beds to establish. Eek.

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  2. You are an artist, Stacy, in addition to all the other great things you are! Your photography is mesmerizing, spectacularly beautiful (to say nothing about the writing). Happy Easter!
    Ronit

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    1. Thank you so much, Ronit! A kosher and joyous Passover to you!

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  3. Stacy so glad to hear you are finally getting some water...they are actually putting up fire weather warnings here...we do not have enough surface moisture and too many days of sun an low humidity...can you imagine..of course that delays garden chores as does the very cold nights in the 20s...you are poised for a wonderful spring...

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    1. Donna, NY has turned into a whole other world this year. Fire weather--I'm just stuck trying to come up with anything to say besides "Huh." Or maybe "Wow." Dry spells hit you all harder than they do us, I think--at least our ecosystems are built for brutality...

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  4. Stacy - Have fun in the rain, and remain hopeful. (That photo could have been taken in London ...)

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    1. b-a-g, it's awfully nice to be excited about rain, I have to say, both to have some to be excited about, and also not to be sick and tired of it.

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  5. Spring is all about hope and new beginnings isn't it? You are a beautiful writer.

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    1. It really is, sweetbay. One of my friends used to look at new, spring-green leaves and shout happily, "That is the color of HOPE!" Thank you so much--I'm delighted that you enjoyed the post!

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  6. Am quietly envious. We had half a millimetre. Heavy cloud this evening. Hoping for some REAL rain.

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    1. Oof--you must all be so parched by now. Hope those heavy clouds came through for you in a big, winter's-coming sort of way.

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  7. I second that....you have to have rain to fill a rain barrel, and yet the water companies keep sending out these leaflets with that as one of their 'good suggestions'. From yesterday we have a hosepipe ban here in Southern England, 20 mill people affected, and it will most likely last for the whole summer. If you have a few drops to spare, might you send them off to London please?

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    1. Helene, you are welcome to all the extra rain we can come up with--though I'm afraid that "extra" is the trick word... It would probably only be enough to fill a handful of those rain barrels. I do wish water companies, etc. wouldn't act as though rain barrels are cures for all problems--they're certainly helpful when they're full... but even then, they only offset a tiny fraction of most people's water use in the garden!

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  8. Woo-Hoo, Rain! I'm doing a happy dance for you!
    (From a drought-stricken Texan.)

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    1. Thanks, Mama Hen! I hope La Niña starts to behave herself and lets you all have some rain, too!

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  9. I'm hoping this will be a wet summer. Tropical. Warm, wet, and lush. The plants would love it! Oh, there I go dreaming again! In actuality, I am hoping our yearly drought only lasts the normal time period of a month or two. Last year was truly a nightmare.

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    1. Holley, we will hope that this year that old cattle pond of yours stays full! I'm not sure how a lot of trees, etc. would handle another summer like last year's.

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  10. Stacy - Here in Colorado we have stringent water laws - and they tell us that rain barrels are illegal... I think they are trying to pass a state law that gives some options on storing rain water that falls on your roof. It has been a dry - very dry spring. We did get the same type storm last week - but not quite enough. We had a very bad fire up in the foothills the week before - over 4000 acres burnt and three people killed... We can not take water for granted - it is a precious thing.

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    1. Mark, I'd heard that about rain barrels in Colorado and was completely perplexed. It seems so counter-intuitive, but surely there's some logic in there somewhere. Does the ban have something to do with meeting quotas to water users downstream from you? The fire in the foothills sounded horrible, even for wildfires. It's been a long time since I remember one killing residents. The front page of the ABQ Journal today had an article on drought--water run-off has been lower than "average" for 13 of the last 15 years...

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  11. Hi Stacy, I am so happy for you for all the rain /snow and having your rain barrels full. No black widows this year I hope! Yikes!! I certainly wish you lots of abundance in everything this summer. Your writing is . . . as usual . . . inspiring . . . I love how you take us from snow to the snow-like petals of cherry blossoms falling all around and over you. Lovely! Wonderful image of you standing up and petals scattering to the wind. We need our April showers . . . to date they are very late. Spring greetings from Massachusetts. Carol

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    1. Carol, thank you--it really was a relief to have enough moisture to do some good. Black widows are just a way of life out here, I'm afraid, but at least they don't seem to want to come inside. They're very shy, too, and except for the poisonous bit (...) really get a bad rap. I hope that you do get some rain soon, and a return to more normal weather, if there is such a thing. I'm pleased that you enjoyed the post. Happy spring to you as well!

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  12. "The rain barrel is full, and nothing needs watering" - what a wonderful, if fleeting, moment to enjoy! And what a gorgeous photo of that tulip after its brief drink. I'm doing a rain dance myself up here in NY, hoping it will come one day soon.

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    1. Aimee, the full rain barrel with nothing needing water has become my symbol of plenty and satisfaction since moving to the SW. May your rain dance work in just the right measure! (I never thought I'd be wishing rain on someone in NY!)

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    2. I just love this phrase about the rain barrel and I know it's going to stick with me. It's nice to have symbols of plenty and can't hurt to have them dance around in our minds, either!

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  13. I've never measured our rainfall. Suffice to say that our rain barrels have never been empty ...
    There has been talk about us sending water down to our friends in the south of England. I don't quite know how we would do that...It would be better if the water companies got rid of all the wasteful leaks.That might help.

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    1. Janet, you are such a trouper to read (let alone reply to!) all those posts at once! It really is good to have you back. No, I don't imagine a lack of moisture is your normal cross to bear... The leaks down south do sound impressive. Decaying infrastructure would make a better campaign topic than others I could name.

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