Nature – Page 3 – Gardens For Goldens

Some Bunny To Watch Over You

Some of the bunnies at the dog rescue don’t stand much of a chance (yes…this is a toy!).

But these little ones are strictly off limits. 🙂

“Some bunny” is watching over our newest additions.

Whoever Makes A Garden

To my wayward gardeners (one excused for her good work with the dogs)…

I understand your spring fever, but while you are away, the weeds grow wild and tall.

The garden and I carry on without you – because a garden doesn’t make itself.

The roses have been fed their poo tea and the narcissus tied back.

The paths have been freshly laid. The weeds ~~have been~~ are being pulled and the beds mulched.

And the new entry has been planted while the lilies and lilac begin to bloom.

But be warned – you leave me alone at your own peril –
lest the Dahlias find a new home…

and the poppies multiply…

and the new bed is planted too tight and too tall…

while that hideous shrub that you love is allowed to wither and die.

Don’t worry about me alone…I am in good company.

But be warned: it shall all be mine if you stay away too long.
Possession is, after all, nine-tenths of the law.

“Whoever makes a garden
Has never worked alone;
the rain has always found it,
The sun has always known;
The wind has blown across it
And helped to scatter seeds;
Whoever makes a garden
Has all the help he needs.”
~Author Unknown

Mac-aroni’s Going Home Day

You don’t have to look at the garden to know that winter is giving way to spring. You can sense it.

You don’t have to envision the flowers and trees in bloom. You can smell them.

You don’t have to behold the sun to know that it is shining. You can experience its warmth.

You don’t have to observe the birds to know their delight in fresh worms and tiny buds. You can hear them.

And 10-year-old blind Mac-aroni does not need to see the love of his new mom on their going home day.

He can feel it.

Congratulations and happy life, sweet boy!

At the Water’s Edge

I returned to the river Thursday after the rain finally subsided.

It had been a week of almost non-stop soaking in three waves of powerful downpours and winds. Go here for a bird’s-eye view.

The Sacramento River is at its highest point since 1997. At the water’s edge, I usually find all sorts of wildlife and birds of different feathers –

most were still burrowing someplace warm and dry. And there was very little edge!

The crows, however, are opportunists;

the ducks are in their element;

and the dogs were just happy to finally get out.

For the first time that I can ever remember, Homeward Bound’s president – who lives on site – closed the rescue to all but the feeders, twice. On the worst night of all, she told even the feeders to stay home. She fed the dogs by herself and took them out for potty one quick run at a time. Leasing the property to the rescue means that she and her husband rarely get private time. Something tells me that even in the downpour, she was enjoying having the place to herself for one dark and stormy night.

The rivers have overflown all of their banks, and weirs that have not been opened in over a decade were lifted – releasing swelling waters into fields to keep cities safe. Thanks to work done over the past few years, the levees held for the most part. There have been a few breaches in rural communities, and another one currently threatened – but an amazing effort by emergency teams that worked around the clock for days to keep us out of harm’s way.

In the Sierra, rain turned snow to slush before the temperatures dropped. Then the skies dropped 10+ feet of snow – more than we have seen in years. This series of monster storms managed to lift Northern California out of five years of drought – and there is more on the way. Mid next week, another atmospheric river will add to our swollen rivers.

We get a few days to let some of the water soak in – and to wash some of the mud off.

Our Cup Runneth Over

They call it a Pineapple Express. An atmospheric river. A once in twenty-five year event. We call it water. And lots of it. This was the river just a year ago:

This year, Winter announced itself, first with a hard frost,

and now, rain. Lots and lots of rain.

After five years of drought, the water is welcome – but the height of our rivers and streams is downright scary. This is a warm storm off the Pacific, so the water melts the snow in the Sierra, and just when you think you’ve been through the thick of it, the rivers swell further with runoff. Sacramento is second only to New Orleans in flood risk. I was here in 1986 as the the water rose so high it brushed the bottom of bridges and the levees failed. If you have any sway with the rain gods, would you kindly ask them to go easy on us this time? Our cup runneth over.

There will be no gardening even if we wanted to: the garden looks like a lake with floating islands.

And there will be no dog walking today. The wind and rain make it unsafe to drive, so all but our feeders have been banned during the worst of it. Today, the dogs won’t mind. With the yards full of ankle-height water, and the relentless shooting of nearby duck hunters, even our water-loving pups prefer to be under cover!

But even these storms bring their own joys: birds.

Some are with us all year,

but much easier to see when the trees are barren.

Others – like the Snow Geese, make their way to our valley only in winter.

And what a sight they are!

Tens of thousands of them.

I have been stalking them for a couple weeks. They are skittish; even the sound of a shutter click sends them flying off.

But they have found food – and sanctuary from the hunters – in the flooded rice fields that surround us.

I usually love the sound of rain, but this rain is worrisome. I should be grateful for it after so long a drought – and I will be – when this storm has safely passed.

Wordless Wednesday: Raindrops

Finally Fall

The rain came – and with it fall. Finally, fall.

Signaled by merry frogs,

and colored by asters,

sage,

and Maria’s festive decorations.

We caught the tail end of the horrible storm wrecking havoc in the Pacific Northwest. The best part. Even the poppies are reborn with cooler weather and a fresh drink.

I’ve been hard at work on the creation of a new bed: an extension of our entry way gardens to replace a section of weedy grass and surround Jody’s beautiful metal tree – adorned with the dog tags of those who have come this way on their journeys home.

What is now:

What will be:

In the wind and rain, we even managed a few adoptions – including Sara – now renamed Breezy, and aptly so! She got lost – and no one found her. That won’t happen again.

I also had a visit from the one who got away – actually, the one that my Jackson passed up in favor of his new brother Yogi: Faith.

We have learned that her Megaesophagus (her inability to eat normally, which I wrote about here) is the result of a larger issue: Centronuclear Myopathy (CNM) – an inherited disease in Labrador Retrievers which causes loss of muscle tone and control, exercise intolerance, and an awkward gait. It generally appears between two and five months. We noticed it in Faith and her sister as they approached six months on walks – and then at play. Their legs began to shake and then simply gave way. With a rest, they are soon back at it. But their bodies won’t develop the muscle tone of a typical dog – thus her very elongated look and goofy movements.

It has been prevalent since the 1970’s – and frustratingly, is 100% preventable by simply testing the breeding parents to determine if they carry the gene. As usual, education is the key – so spread the word. Thankfully, she and her sister have the best care with Cassandra, the world’s best mom.

Fall is magnificent – too long in coming,

and too short in staying.

Maybe that is what makes it my favorite season.

October Surprise

October began with an incredible surprise: rain!

Something we have not seen in a very, very long time.

And absolutely no one seemed to mind. 🙂

Magical

I took a little breather last week for a girls’ weekend in Sedona, Arizona.

It is beautiful country – magical, really.

Its towering sandstone formations glow red and orange against breathtaking sunrises and sunsets.

At night, the stars fill the blackened sky.

But gardening in that dark red, desert clay? While I think I’ll pass on that challenge, what blooms from the desert appears even more beautiful for the hardships it has triumphed over –

not unlike one of our newest arrivals, twelve-year-old Jake.

When I saw the blackened skin stripe on his back, I admit – I feared the worst. But it is actually all that remains of a horrible skin condition that stripped all the fur from his body.

I’ll spare you the “before” photos, but thank the Wine Country Animal Lovers and the Calistoga Vet Clinic for the miracle they performed.

Jake is with us now, for as many sunrises and sunsets as we are blessed with. The neglect that caused this condition, his worn down teeth, and his lumps and bumps is over. His new soft coat and his sweet disposition are appreciated all the more for what he has overcome. He’s magical, really.