We always start our seeds at the beginning of January, so that tomatoes and peppers can get an early start. Especially with tomatoes, we want to get the going early, so that we get a tasty crop before the excessive heat causes them to stop producing.
This year we took and old plastic container and grew lettuce. We’re using Burpee Bibb lettuce. It’s been very successful indoors. (See pic.)
Right now, we have three kinds of lettuce, cilantro, two kinds of tomatoes, tobacco, Aji peppers, basil, parsley, and kiowa growing. Today, we’ll be in the 70s, and finally the roaring winds of the last few days have turned to a delightful calm. Lovely…
We’re still waiting for the warmer weather. It’s been a brisk couple of days wind wise, and this morning it was a mere 34 degrees F.
It’s supposed to be warm and in the 70s this weekend, which would be welcome for the St. Patrick’s Day festivities.
In life we’re always waiting, sometimes the wait is more noticeable than others, but it’s always something. When we’re young, it’s friends, and then the wait for lovers or spouses. Waiting.
When we’re older, it’s the march of life, family, and career. So many waits (or is it waitings?) Soon we’re waiting for retirement, even death.
Societies also grow and mature, and sometimes the undercurrents of discontent, or the mania of rapid bank fueled economic growth leads to another wait. The wait until the coming crash, or the wait until the rebirth. Always waiting…
The Coyote waits. Sometimes it’s the rabbit hole, at other times the patient wait for the unwary. We’re always waiting…
We’re blessed with abundant wildlife at Stagecoach Trails. We have coyotes, javelina, bobcats, mountain lions (closer to the mountains,) deer, fox, and a million quail.
I’ve seen a lion only once, but coyotes are almost daily, and the quail will come excitedly whenever we’ve been away for a few days. They want us to top off the three bird feeders that we have hung from a Joshua Tree out front.
Today we’ll spotlight the bobcats. (More pictures if you click “more” below.)
It’s been a wet year so far. Today we received a light rain. On top of the rains of January & February and the upcoming rain on Friday, we are looking at what may be a rather good wildflower season.
In a perfect year, we would receive a decent soaking at least every two weeks from September to March. In most years, this just doesn’t happen, and this year was no exception.
We did get some decent rains in October, but November and most of December were devoid of any rain. There’s still hope though, and the relatively moist run that we’ve so far this season will really help this year. (At least one can dream.)
In 2005, we had a particularly wet year. The groundwater was so abundant that water ran across Alamo Rd. in spots for months. There were “seasonal” streams that had been dry for years that suddenly became babbling brooks. It was a verdant green time, and the desert was simply splendid.
“IF YOU BREAK loose here, you can’t stop. You’re going into the abyss,” barks Rich Rudow. Normally he is unflappable, but as he knows too well, this is no place to let down one’s guard. We’re on a cliff roughly 3,500 feet above the Colorado River at the tip of the Great Thumb Mesa, a spectacular formation that thrusts out from the South Rim of the Grand Canyon like the bow of an immense ship. It is one of the canyon’s most remote spots, rarely seen even by the most hard-core backpackers. If you come this far out on the Thumb, there is no way to get down to the river without climbing gear, and the dwindling food in your pack won’t allow you to make the eight-day trek back the way you came. You have to move forward.
Click the link to read the whole article, including pictures.