Not much gardening could be done with such soggy ground. The river was out of its banks and the road was flooded on the far side of the bridge for a couple of days. The irony is not lost on me that a stoppage of road dust only happens when I can't garden.
After about a foot of rain, the fields quickly became St. Patrick's Day green. The cows across the road were as happy as cows can be; their facial expressions reveal nothing.
We are not talking here about the passage of a month or two between hot, dry and windy, to verdant lushness. In a matter of days, I went from short sleeve tee shirts to a mad dive into the Winter Duds boxes. Suddenly, bare feet inside the house switched over to thick wool socks and shoes.
Outside, the temperature went from 90's to 40's. Then this morning, I opened the blinds and gasped, "Oh, my goodness!"
I wasn't quite finished with gardening. No one can figure out where autumn went. The leaves now only have not turned gorgeous colors, they are still hanging on for dear life awaiting Jack Frost. (I know that's not what happens, but we still like to say it.)
After a few hours of sunshine, the snow vanished and bright green grass reappeared as if nothing untoward had happened. That's why I keep the camera at the ready, to prove that it wasn't all in my dreams.
My tulip bulbs arrived right after the rain started, as usual. There will be a slight delay in planting them.
