Saturday, June 27, 2015

Send Rain

I'm doing everything I can to keep my sweet peas alive, 88 degrees at 8pm tonight, and I seem to be losing. It's been pretty much more and more flowers every day; been picking as many as I have vases. I've even taken to putting a bouquet of them on the sidewalk with a sign that says "Take me home". It's my little patch of luxury — day after day purples, and reds, whites and pinks — and it has seemed that there was no end in sight, but. But.

Where is my June rain?
Feels like suffocation, and it's only going to get hotter.

I keep thinking of the Robert Frost poem, Fire and Ice:

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Seems we've made our choice.


  1. I believe I'm hear you on Whidbey Island and everyone is saying it's just unusually hot for June here. The flowers, though, are spectacular -- as is the sky. I'd love it to rain, though -- so selfishly -- as we haven'd had a proper one in Los Angeles for so long I'm almost forgetting what it's like.

    1. I'm thinking of you, Elizabeth, in your little cabin across the water!

  2. Stinking hot here in southern France. As for the end of the world, I've always imagined that disease would do the job.

    1. You too, eh Cro? Maybe disease AND heat, on our way out.

  3. 107 expected here today. Watered all the essential plants - we're letting the lawn die. Hoping for El Nino!