||[Mar. 19th, 2016|11:13 pm]
I've watched the clouds that will bring rain tomorrow gathering all afternoon and evening. They are not yet thick enough to constantly conceal the waxing gibbous moon, so its light comes and goes. This has made me note how thick the foliage of the oaks has already become. When the moon shines there is barely any dappling of light on the lawn where the dense oak shade lies. |
The oak continues to grow taller and wider, and now almost completely fills the space above the walnut tree. I wonder if the walnut is getting enough sunlight to be fully productive? It probably gets none until afternoon, and a few hours later the pines to the west begin to throw their shade on it. But nothing can be done about the neighbors' oaks, and it would be very costly (and perhaps life-threatening for the oak) to have the oak trimmed back. It certainly wouldn't be worth it for a few extra walnuts each year. But I wish the original owners of the property had placed the oak farther north.
I can hear the frogs croaking. They have been refreshed by the recent rains, and as they get older their voices deepen. The chorus already has more bass in it than it had a few weeks ago. It's been over a week since I heard the frog who was in my yard for a while. I probably won't be hearing him again. He has either moved on or met an untimely end, most likely at the paws of one of the cats. Or he got kissed by a princess and turned back into a prince and returned to his kingdom. Naturally I prefer the latter story.
Spring officially begins tomorrow. Something to wake up for, even though it won't be like one of those cartoon springs where all the leaves and blossoms burst out at once. I'll make do with the rainy day and the handful of lilacs that have emerged. Goodbye, winter. Thanks for the snow in the mountains and the almost-full reservoirs. You might have been the best we'll see for a long time to come.