Rain's okay, too (My Sacred Life, Sunday)

Denver had a period this summer, a record-breaking period, of 24 days in a row where the high temperature was above 90 degrees. Most days, it was above 95. The string was finally broken in early August.

Now, only ten days or so later, we are seeing unseasonably cool, very wet weather. I cannot recall ever turning on the furnace in August, yet that's what we needed to do yesterday.

It is no surprise that there are no complaints to be heard regarding the moisture. In fact, if I listen closely enough, I can hear our entire back yard, including all six little gardens, sighing repeatedly the sigh of relief.

What's worthy of comment is how quickly the people of Denver grow weary of the gray skies. Not the rain, not the cooler temperatures, just the lack of sunshine. Friday was gray to begin with, and gray all day, and people in my office were grumpy by mid-afternoon. What they need is a month in Seattle. Write your own happy aphorism having to do with this phenomenon, as I have to admit to limited patience with those who can complain after half a day of less-than-ideal conditions.

It's one of the hazards of a place where the sun shines more than 80% of the days of the year: you are not ready for three days in a row with no direct sunlight. That's what we are expecting at this point. The weekend is slated to be slate-colored skies and spitting rain. [Update: Saturday, we had a full 20 minutes of sunshine. People came out of their homes, rubbing their eyes and pointing toward the sky. It's as if they are not sure if the orb requires worship or not]

So, today, I offer my own glorification of days of gray in Denver. You will never get these shots from the Denver Chamber of Commerce or the Colorado Tourism Board. Just call me a muckraker.

Our beloved, misshapen pine tree, now twice the height it was when we planted it nine years ago
Julia swears it is the shape it is due to its proximity to the power lines above it. I prefer to think of it as being a tree which is our tribe: one not exactly normal, yet thriving in its own fashion. I mean, I can see 'normal' from here, but I certainly can't reach it. And, based upon the evidence, I'm pretty sure that's a good thing.


Some not-so-happy-looking tall grasses, part of the along-the-fence garden which connects the happy place with the triangle garden which is east of the pine tree. I'm sure they will look much happier when the sun comes out tomorrow to dry their stalks so they can stand up straight again. They certainly have been watered enough to last at least a week...now, they need some sunshine to drive their energy engine.


A very-soggy herb garden


These parallel garden elements are the Luna beds, dedicated to our beloved Luna, now gone 6 years but not gone at all: her cremains were spread in these beds as a way of honoring her and allowing her to help with the plants from below ground level.