Precipitation cycle
Monday, 9 March 2026

Yesterday’s storm decorated the car. And now, well after dark, it’s raining again.
Monday, 9 March 2026

Yesterday’s storm decorated the car. And now, well after dark, it’s raining again.
Sunday, 8 March 2026

We have to have caught up our rainfall deficit a bit the last few days. I got this basil cluster to plant and failed to do so before the deluge, but it might not have been any better off if I had.
Saturday, 7 March 2026

Tonight, the rain really did roll in after dark. I had little patience to wait the three seconds for this exposure in a frozen posture as I was getting pelted even though I was under the porch overhang. So, this shot is even more impressionistic than I planned.
Friday, 6 March 2026

The sky turned strange approaching 6:30 this evening, and I heard thunder. It never rained, and it didn’t quite seem like the summer pop-up afternoon storm pattern. Still, it’s too hot, as the temps reached 82°F.
Thursday, 5 March 2026

It’s been a while since I tried this, and I learned that iPhone lenses are still not the best for shots through this kaleidoscope. I’ve lost track of the other marbles for this one, and I recall that their colors are prettier.
Wednesday, 4 March 2026

I cleaned up a forgotten corner of the yard and found this abandoned Nerf-toy entrapped in new spring greenery. I couldn’t tell what neighbor-property it came from to toss it back, so I guess I’ll donate it to the city next Garbage Day.
Tuesday, 3 March 2026

Pansies are a winter flower in these parts, and we’re coming to the end of pansy season.
BTW, I learned the other day of ensete/enset (Ensete ventricosum), which is the principal traditional starch food of Ethiopia (for 20 million folks) and neighboring lands across eastern Africa. It’s in the banana family, and it looks like a banana plant. And I had never heard of it.
Monday, 2 March 2026

I do like the jagged edges and the silver tint of cardoon vegetation. Cardoons are Cynara cardunculus. Although today planted in this area as ornamentals, in colonial days they were planted for food…stems mostly I think, but perhaps also the buds.
Sunday, 1 March 2026

I woke up and listened to…quiet. I thought: Sunday. Then, I thought: it’s even quiet for a Sunday. Then, I remembered: marathon. Nearby, and not on our street, but near enough to change traffic patterns, especially diverting through traffic. Hence: unusual quiet from lack of vehicles.
Saturday, 28 February 2026

I’m going to skip today’s distressing news and any other topic. Instead, I’ll remember about thirteen months ago when we temporarily resided overlooking the Mediterranean, where the Pyrenees plunge into the sea.