Many years ago when I was new to Austin, I remember hearing someone complain about the humidity. I'm fairly certain that I said, "Humidity? You want humidity? You can't handle humidity!"Okay, so maybe I just dated myself, but trust me, that kind of talk was da bomb in those days.
I have lived in some of the most humid cities in the United States--Mobile, Alabama; New Orleans, LA; and Washington, DC. I know humidity.And today, my friends, it was humid. I took these pictures hours after any measurable rain. It was just too humid for the raindrops to evaporate.
These aren't raindrops I caught on their way to the ground. These are raindrops that just would not drop.
On an ordinary Austin day, I would need a superfast camera to catch this droplet on the continuing-to-be-confused fig tree. (Or I would need to be hallucinating because the drought has made this occurrence as rare as, well, rain.) Notice the bud at the end of the branch. What will become of this poor confused brown turkey?
At 11am--when I took this picture--the sun had not yet made an appearance. I hear that we may not see it again until tomorrow afternoon.
On the upside, the day's weather has turned all the plants, like this dinosaur kale, into little Christmas trees covered with sparkling lights.(Dinosaur kale, aka Lacinato kale, aka Nero di Toscana kale, is my favorite kale--and probably my favorite green--so much so that I no longer plant any other varieties.)
This bronze fennel would make a great Christmas tree, if it could stand a wee bit more upright and support ornaments.
I have to admit that the gloomy weather has had a similar effect on my mood. At times like this, I'm happy to live in Austin and not the Pacific Northwest. I know that in a few days, not a few months, the sun will come out, and it will be 70 degrees.
Until then I'm reaching out to raindrops on roses to boost my mood.
My mood will be sky high if you enjoy a few of my favorite things while ignoring the yellow leaves on Belinda's dream. I think I may have killed another rose.Looks like I may need to go in search of whiskers on kittens, or maybe some warm woolen mittens.
You've just described some of our winter days! Let's hope the sun comes out in Austin and Nashville~~gail
ReplyDeleteAdd Houston to the list of places wishing for sun. It made a brief appearance yesterday afternoon but this morning it's in hiding again. I'm having a hard time getting motivated to do anything at all. If y'all want to run away to Hawaii, let me know!
ReplyDeleteHi Vertie,
ReplyDeleteIf you can plow through the posts, the fig forum at GardenWeb can be helpful.
I'm not positive, but that just looks like a leaf bud. Usually they make it through winter but this year, who knows! Sometimes you'll see the rounded bud of a developing fig in winter, and sometimes they turn into figs the next spring. This first crop of figs on "old wood" are called brebas.
My two figs are tiny, frozen pitiful sights - so obviously any information I can give you this year is theoretical!
There are small puddles on the floor of the covered veranda, formed when the warm moist air hit the cold metal furniture, condensed and dripped down the chair legs. And a couple of decollate snails crawling around on the concrete! That's humid, all right.
Annie at the Transplantable Rose