drought no doubt.

first, what this year is so far inspired by: gotta love the library. PERMACULTURE. planning the glorious transformation of our front patch into an "edible ecosystem," maybe just enough room for a small fruit and nut tree guild with a few berry shrubs. LOCAL FOOD COOK BOOK. a placer county cook book, with recipes every week of the year based off of what was found at local farmer's markets. i feel so fortunate to be surrounded by so many fertile farms. (kiwis in january! every county needs a book like this!) FERMENTATION! and, adding a lot of smells in our kitchen, the mastering fermentation book. love at first sight. (i've got kimchi, kvass, and a sour dough starter going.... the trouble is my house isn't warm enough for anything to start fermenting! i've been carting my jars and bowls around to find sunny places and keep warmish in the car on afternoons...they're getting quite the royal treatment.)

today-

a hawk's cry rings through the neighborhood on this warm afternoon.

song birds trill and whistle.

on my skin it feels like the emergence of spring,

and it feels disconcerting,

since the rains have yet to come.

flowering trees that bloomed in april in my youth's memory are now starting to burst forth

small pink blossoms.

desert, aka: folsom lake, dammed reservoir filled with the waters of the sierra nevada snows, flowing from the american river. roseville's, and nearby communities' water source.

basically, we

are

so

out 

of

whack.

fragmented, on the moon.

we came to see wander the lake bed, as it holds the water we drink at home.

the fruit trees will begin blooming soon, confused by the warmth.

only to be frozen off by a wry storm come february.

that seems to be the emerging pattern for this area in northern california.

the turkey vulture sits quietly.

linky treasures the burdock seeds in the dry lake bed.

ty and link.

as the sun set in a psychedelic-neon we walked to the nearest playground, and bumped into the occasional-play-ground friend, michelle. 

michelle is a meteorologist for the national weather bureau/climate studies/ fancy shmancy,

and we chewed the fat.

el nino/la nina patterns.

melting ice.

drought.

i told her that as a life long resident of northern california i've taken note of the shifting seasons, dryer winters.

winters were wet and chilly as a child, with the family fruit trees blooming around april, near my birthday.

and they started blooming earlier, march, 

remembering the surprise as they bloomed in february.

for the last 5-7 years they've bloomed at the end of january, lured by unseasonably warm weather that's becoming more "seasonable."

only to be blown off by a week of freezing wind that often comes not too long after.

it's been a long time since we've had successful fruit crops,

this is our new normal.

it won't go back the way we remember seasons to be;

i look onward to adaptation,

and feel flabbergasted when the scarce waters of folsom lake trickle down sidewalks as my neighbors over-water their dang-blasted lawns.

source. how the lake "normally" looks.

even if it does rain, and according to michelle it will, because "statistically the atmosphere can't remain dry all of the time...," it is dryer. and hotter.

and we need a lot of rain.


praying.