My camellia IS blooming, but you can see what the weather is doing. Rain, rain, rain. This morning it is currently 41 and a high of 50 is predicted. I photographed the camellia from my desk chair.
There are birds nesting in the camellia. A family of golden crowned sparrows are popping in and out of the camellia. It is about 8 feet tall and 5 feet wide and thick, so they seem pretty safe there. Yesterday there were six on the ground below the feeder. I did not know what they were when I saw the first one and had to look them up: here.
We did have a few hours of sun in the afternoon yesterday. Still cool, but I sat outside with a cup of tea. Lovely.
I am feeling a bit like this elf: irritated about the rain.
Ok, yeah, I did move to the Pacific Northwest 23 years ago, and I could have moved away. I love the beaches and the mountains here. But when we are having sun once every 10 days or two weeks in the season they call “spring” here, I do get a little irritated at the rain. Yesterday and today the wind is howling too. Whitecaps and I am very happy not to be out in a boat.
This etching is 2.5 by 3 inches, titled Rain Forest, number 5 out of 25, 1985.
Now three blooms have opened on my camellia. All the other buds are waiting. The three that have opened are on the house side or deep in the greenery. It must be a little warmer and more protected there.
The sparkling water distracts, while she is shy above it, cloaked. She waits for the moisture that remains after Mount Olympus has taken her share from the clouds as they roll over. Over the year Mount Olympus and her sisters take hundreds of inches before the clouds pass on to Tahoma, but she catches the moisture left and builds a soft cloak. She is nearly hidden in the blues and pale blues. Look for her.
It doesn’t fit, but I wrote it for the Ragtag Daily Prompt: risque.
Thoughts coalesce, precipitate wet earth soaks rain and turn to mud snow melts and soaks the bosom of the earth sun warms, worms break down tattered leaves what stirs beneath wet brown muddy ground we listen for spring’s soft slow moving sound
I took this three days ago, watching the sunrise on East Beach, Marrowstone Island. The fires in eastern Washington cause amazing colors. We could really use some rain in Washington, though not too much. The rivers are down, fishing is locked up, because the salmon are stuck in smaller pools and are too vulnerable. Some rain, please, but not those flooding atmospheric rivers?
At any rate, it is gorgeous watching the sky and water turn pink and orange.
Refugees welcome - Flüchtlinge willkommen I am teaching German to refugees. Ich unterrichte geflüchtete Menschen in der deutschen Sprache. I am writing this blog in English and German because my friends speak English and German. Ich schreibe auf Deutsch und Englisch, weil meine Freunde Deutsch und Englisch sprechen.
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