Photography, Gardening

We Didn’t Quite get the Full Effect of the Bomb Cyclone in Southern California

But it surely was a welcome rainstorm

Coming home from Portland, Oregon, last Sunday was quite an adventure. After a rough take-off and a couple of hours of “flying blind” through a mantle of white haze, we emerged into open sky up above the tips of swirling arms of the storm:

But once we landed in Orange County, we had to wait a full day for the rain to hit. Monday morning yawned awake with the kind of humidity that clings to you and lingers in your lungs, but the rain did not arrive for a few hours.

In a place as dry as this, you can always smell the storm before it arrives, carrying with it the scent of sage and saturated dust.

By about eleven, the first misting had begun to solidify out of the heaviness of the air. And by noon, the onslaught hit. I could just feel my garden exhaling months of dryness and breathing in the moisture

We don’t get a lot of thunderstorms or lightning here, something I really miss from my teenage years in Tucson, Arizona, where we would watch those summer monsoons roll in with all the fury of an atomic bomb. So, when we do get a good storm, it tends to bring with it a little frisson of excitement.

Up north, San Francisco was pummeled by 4.02 inches of rain, making it the wettest October day on record for the city. That staggering rainfall total also reached into the top-five wettest days on record in San Francisco, with records going back to the Gold Rush era, the National Weather Service said. Sunday’s total was the fourth-highest ever recorded there.

But, here, in Orange County, we were just happy to have enough rain to saturate the soil out in the wild places where we mountain bike — those golden hills are just desiccated right now. And my garden, which is mostly watered by those little black drippers on a line, which bring the moisture to the roots of the plants, doesn’t see a lot of water from above. I could almost feel my plants’ joy at being soaked.

My “Hot Lips” Salvia looked absolutely exuberant.

And my potted succulents looked like they were wearing diamonds.

The rain only lasted a few hours. But, in its wake, we were gifted the most glorious sunset.

The forecasters are predicting a “La Nina” winter here, which means we’ll probably, yet again, have below-average rainfall. I remember the days when we first lived in this house, twenty years ago, and I used to have to run outside with a giant “squeegee” broom to push the water towards the drains and away from the house.

We also used to always get a little river running through our garage when we’d get big storms. But those storms just don’t seem to be happening with much frequency anymore. Climate change is visible here in Southern California. So, I’m just grateful, for now, that we were touched by the outer fingers of that bomb cyclone and that my garden got to breathe in a little moisture for a bit.

Erika Burkhalter is a yogi, neurophilosopher, cat-mom, photographer, and lover of travel and nature, spreading her love and amazement for Mother Earth’s glories, one photo, poem or story at a time. (MS Neuropsychology, MA Yoga Studies).

I hope you enjoyed my photos and musings.

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Photos and story ©Erika Burkhalter. All rights reserved.