Wind

Weather: We had a series of days with very high afternoon temperatures, which affected the roses. Then, following winds that knocked off petals, temperatures fell. It was 98 on Friday, June 5, and 73 yesterday, June 9.

Last rain: 6/6. Week’s low: 43 degrees F. Week’s high: 98 degrees F in the shade.

What’s blooming in the area: Doctor Huey and hybrid roses, yellow-flowered potentilla, catalpa, trumpet creeper, red-tipped yuccas, daylilies, red hot poker, Spanish broom, sweet pea, silver lace vine, Japanese honeysuckle, blue flax, Jupiter’s beard, golden spur columbine, purple salvia, winecup mallow, yellow yarrow, blanket flower, coreopsis

What’s blooming beyond the walls and fences: Apache plume, prickly pear and cholla cacti, alfilerillo, fern leaf globe mallow, datura, green leaf five-eyes, bindweed, silver lead nightshade, alfalfa, yellow sweet clover, wild licorice, velvet weed, showy milkweed, toothed spurge, buffalo gourd, bindweed, Hopi tea, flea bane, plains paper flower, goat’s beard, native dandelions, strap leaf aster, cheat, brome, and three-awn grasses

What’s blooming in my yard: Miniature and floribunda roses, Asiatic lily, coral bells, Maltese cross, bouncing Bess, pink evening primrose, Dutch clover, Rumanian sage, catmints, Johnson Blue geranium, blue salvia, perennial four o’clock, larkspur, California poppies, white spurge, wintered-over pansy and snapdragon, coral, purple, fox glove and smooth beard tongues, ladybells, Queen Anne’s lace, Shasta daisy, anthemis, chocolate flower, white yarrow, Ozark coneflower, Mexican hats

What’s emerging: Watermelon seeds

Bedding and house plants: Snapdragons, zonal geraniums, pansies

Tasks: I’ve been pulling cheat grass, and dropping seeds of a native grass into the disturbed soil. In some places, some blades have emerged. I won’t know for a while whether they’re a desirable or undesirable type. I’ve discovered, whenever you plant seeds the first things up are weeds that were waiting to be replanted. Like as not, they look very much like what was planted and so disguise themselves.

Animal sightings: Sounds of small birds, gecko, cabbage butterflies, bumble and small bees, two large red dragonflies, hornets, grasshoppers, sound of crickets, sidewalk ants

Weekly update: Weather follows cycles, and, because I don’t have a great memory, it always seems new. We had rain the morning of June 6, and strong winds in the afternoon. They reached 49 mph in Santa Fé.

The winds continued the next two days, while the humidity fell. It was 5% in Santa Fé on June 8.

The source of the rain was a bit of a mystery. The NOOA satellite picture showed it emerging suddenly from southern Arizona. I know that’s not possible. The area is desert. Mirages do not produce water.

I think a tropical depression, which appeared off the coast of Guatemala on May 31, crossed central American and became Cristobal. As it continued east into the Caribbean, it got stronger and moved north. The last I saw it was in Wisconsin.

The immediate area west of the tropical storm was dry; the moisture was on the east side. But, one thing I’ve learned is that there’s often another band of moisture beyond the dry belt. That might have been what materialized in Arizona.

Smoke from Mexico and dust from Arizona often arrive with wind. And, sure enough, the atmosphere was filled with smoke on June 8. Some came from Mexico and some from fires ignited by the weather in the southwestern part of the state. A small fire erupted in El Rito on June 9.

Because of the intensity of the winds in the first part of June, I though this was some aberration. Well the difference between memory and history is written records. My old files corrected me.

Last year, on May 24, we had smoke and rain. Winds in Santa Fé reached 59 mph. They’d gotten up to 51 the day before. That was about three weeks earlier than this year.

2018 didn’t have the same confluence of elements. Winds reached 62 mph on April 17, and dirty air from fires arrived on June 11. The same extreme events, but in a different configuration.

My notes tell me my perceptions are wrong. The plants second me.

The winds buffeted branches, and lowered them. I have a path between a purple sandcherry on one side and a Dr. Huey rose on the other. Last week I cut a cane that was intruding into my path. Yesterday, branches from both the shrub and the rose were blocking the path. I doubt either grew a foot in two days.

The effects of wind are all about movements that are directed by surface objects. On Monday, the wind blew my neighbor’s emptied trash can across the road, and left mine alone. They were less than 25' apart, but his was in the path of winds that whipped around his house and mine was just enough removed not to be affected.

I’m sure the more horizontal branch of the forsythia is lower, because branches are in a path that I knew was clear before the winds. It’s against a fence, and the wind roars down that alley. It probably blew through the two limbs.

The plants that protested the most were the red hot pokers. The ones in the main bed, sheltered somewhat by the house, remained erect. The one that was farther to the north got blown around. The stems on the west side were moved more than those on the east.

The next day the stems remained at angles, but the flower heads had re-erected themselves. What are normally straight lines had become angles. I don’t remember seeing that before.

Notes on photographs: Red hot pokers (Kniphofia uvaria) taken 8 June 2010.
1. This is what they’re supposed to look like. A plant near the house.

2. This is not what poker’s do. This was the farthest west stem on a plant eight more feet away from the house.

3. Another stem on the same plant as #2.

End notes: NOAA photographs show the United States and large bodies of water. I’m not sure if they bother with internal Mexican weather. The imagination begins when facts end.

Wind in the Willow

Weather: Sun, wind, less smoke as fires smolder; last rain 6/17/2013; 14:37 hours of daylight today.

Local ditch now only has water available two days a week.

What’s blooming in the area: Dr. Huey and hybrid roses, lilies, daylilies, silver lace vine, Jupiter’s beard, bouncing Bess, purple salvia, blue flax, alfalfa, brome grass.

Beyond the walls and fences: Trumpet creeper, tamarix, cholla cactus, scurf and sweet peas, wild licorice peaked, showy milkweed, buffalo gourd, purple mat flower, leather-leafed globe mallow, bindweed, greenleaf five-eyes, prairie white evening primrose, scarlet bee blossom, velvetweed, common dandelion, goat’s beard, Hopi tea, Tahoka daisy, horsetail, rice grass.

In my yard, looking east: Snow-in-summer peaked, baby’s breath, coral bells, pink evening primrose, winecup mallow.

Looking south: Rugosa, floribunda and miniature roses.

Looking west: Johnson Blue geranium, Rumanian sage, catmints, purple and Husker’s red beardstongues, sea lavender, Shasta daisy; buds on ladybells.

Looking north: Golden spur columbine, coral beardtongue, Hartweig primrose, butterfly weed, chocolate flowers, anthemis, yellow yarrow.

In the open, along the drive: Dutch clover, hollyhock, Shirley and California poppies, white yarrow, blanket flower, coreopsis, yellow, red and mixed Mexican hats; buds of black-eyed Susans.

Bedding plants: Wax begonias, pansies, snapdragons, French marigolds, gazanias.

What’s blooming inside: Zonal geraniums, aptenia.

Animal sightings: Rabbit, hummingbird, goldfinches and other small brown birds, small bees, grasshoppers, harvester and smaller ants.

Weekly update: Some trees are drama queens. At the first hint of wind, they throw out their flexible branches to shoo it away.

Most stand with their leaves inverted. A few refuse to notice, and rock from their roots.

Forest managers have learned more is happening. Deciduous trees that constantly are blown from one direction, develop extra strength on that side, then are damaged when a severe wind comes from another direction. Those blown from every direction develop wind firmness on all sides.

Here, the winds generally come from the south or southwest. The tamarix are constantly bombarded from that direction. However, when they blow along the house, they swirl around the corners. The black locust gets tossed about the most.

Some species have narrow leaves that let the wind pass, while others like those of the catalpa are wide. They shred.

The drama queens do more to use their leaves as protective armor. The leaves on the globe willow lay flat along the branch when the winds blow. The ones closer to the tree are different heights. The impacts of the wind are slowed by the wing flaps.

The ones on the black locust are spaced along their branches.

When the winds pick up, they fold like butterfly wings.

My new cherries haven’t been in the ground long enough to adapt. They came from some kind of nursery plantation where they were grown close together.  Now they're isolated along the drive where winds come from the south.

Forest managers have learned trees in close stands vary by their location. The ones on the edges that get the most wind are shorter and shaped more like pyramids. The ones in the center grow tall and thin. The outer ones have greater wind firmness. The mass of the inner ones deflects the wind.

It’s been a tough year for the cherries. The winds have shocked them. The leaves have not expanded from their initial tight clusters.

 

Spaces have opened in the soil around the trunks where they have rocked from the roots. I suspect if I kept filling the holes, the grafting joints would take the stress, and they probably are less strong than the roots. Also, those openings may channel water downward.

Wind worthiness is in the eyes of the beholder. Homeowners are warned, cottonwoods are brittle.

Cherries and red maples are among the least wind resistant. They say gingkos are among the most wind resistant. Have they ever been around a ginkgo when its fruiting?  They may have medicinal virtues, but cherries are edible.

My locust has been invaded by borers. Every year, some trunk snaps in the wind.

They definitely are not something to have near a building. Every year, when the tree cutting service comes out, they wonder why I don’t just have them cut it down completely. I remember the winds, and can’t imagine anything else surviving the twisting. Besides, I know, even if they cut it to the ground, it would be back the next week. Copsing is another wind strategy.

Photographs:
1. Globe willow in the wind, 21 June 2013.

2. Tamarix in the wind, 19 June 2013.

3. Bing cherry in the wind, 22 June 2013.

4. Black locust in the wind, 15 June 2013.

5. Catalpa leaf shredded by the wind, 22 June 2013.

6. Globe willow leaves, 25 May 2013.

7. Black locust leaves after wind has died down, 22 June 2013 at 7:45 pm.

8. Black locust leaves in the wind, 22 June 2013 at 1:30 pm.

9. Bing cherry leaves still clustered around the trunk, 20 June 2013. The needle grass exaggerates the wind the leaves are ignoring.

10. Base of same Bing cherry, 22 June 2013. It’s worked itself loose from rocking in the wind.

11. Downed cottonwood branch, 29 June 2012. The men who cut it down though there might have been insect damage.  My neighbor got a bit hysterical.  The fence broke the fall, so it wouldn’t have damaged my car if I had parked a bit more forward.

12. Downed black locust trunk, 9 August 2011.  My neighbor continually warns about this tree and the power lines. Whenever its branches even begin to get that tall, the borers attack. So far, it is only a threat to my drive.

13. Fragrant black locust flower, 25 May 2013.

14. Fragrant catalpa flowers, 12 June 2013.

Spring Storms

Weather: Rain, followed by water sucking wind; last rain 4/09/13; 13:01 hours of daylight today.

What’s blooming in the area: Bradford pears, peaches, crab apples, forsythia, daffodils. Apples, plum leafing.

Beyond the walls and fences: Siberian elm, alfilerillo, western stickseed, dandelions. Russian olive leafing, scurf pea emerging.

In my yard: Sand cherry fragrant, Lapins cherry, puschkinia. Peach, apricot, rugosa rose, Siberian pea, privet, beauty bush, Souixland cottonwood leafing. Autumn Joy sedum, David phlox emerging.

What’s blooming inside: Zonal geraniums, petunia.

Animal sightings: Robins near the village, quail down the road, bees on the peach and sand cherries. Small brown birds, harvester and smaller ants.

Weekly update: Two years ago was a dry year that killed the tops of bunch grasses. Last winter was wet, but the weather turned hostile in late spring. The grasses haven’t recover. Airborne bits of broken Russian thistle settled into loosened beach soils between clumps. Before they wouldn’t have been able to pierce the hardened surface.

This past winter was dry, and little has greened on unsettled lands.

My neighbors have responded with fears of fire, and cleared all the dead matter they can. The barren soil is more open to the weeds they hate. Pigweeds already are germinating. Siberian elm seeds are accumulating.

On the west, my neighbor’s drive separates the wild land from the civilized. Years ago, he sodded the one and planted arborvitae and yuccas. A single Siberian elm served as the focus and shade center.

For some reason, he stopped watering the grass after a few summers. It and the yuccas died. Late summer, he’d have someone mow the perimeter, but otherwise left the natural plants.

This year, he had someone come with a blade the middle of March. It wasn’t clear if he was simply leveling the drive, or clearing more of the natural land, especially in back. It looks like everything that may have died has been removed.

High winds were forecast Monday. They began before 9:30 in the morning. By 2:30, the furnace cap on my roof was rattling. At 3:30, the sky toward the Jémez was gray with dust. The mountains were dim shadows. The winds in Los Alamos were reaching 35 mph and gusting to 37 in Santa Fé.

My neighbor’s arborvitae were rippling. Occasionally, a gust would pick up dirt from his back yard and move it north through the front. Sometimes, it was from the left of his house. Sometimes from the right.

The winds slowed around 6:30. The sky to the north turned blue. The clouds were white. The bad lands reappeared.

A few minutes later the clouds began thickening. Winds in Los Alamos reached 40 miles an hour. Ten minutes later the winds arrived here.

They weren’t constant. In two minutes, they slowed and visibility increased.

A minute later, they came harder.

The dust rolled into the road, where cars had turned on their lights when they passed other houses with loose dirt. Above the winds, the skies were as blue as they’d been five minutes before.

The dust was localized. I was taking pictures in my drive, buffeted by the winds. No sand was threatening my eyes. My mouth gathered no girt. The nearby globe willow, shown at the top, was being battered, but it wasn’t being sand blasted.

It’s easy to be smug, and think, oh, if only my neighbors didn’t scrape their soil, it wouldn’t blow away. But, a few days earlier, I noticed rusty nails and bits of glass on the east side of my house. I usually think those relics of construction result from winter heaving. But, there wasn’t enough water in the ground this year to freeze and thaw. These were uncovered by the wind.

I went out after the storm, and they looked more exposed. The wind is taking the soil everywhere. It’s just more obvious when man abets the process.

Photographs: Periodically I synchronize my camera with my computer clock. The times below may not match Greenwich exactly, but they are valid relative to each other.

1. Globe willow directly across from my neighbor’s Siberian elm, 8 April 2013, at 6:42pm.

2. Field down the road, 30 March 2013. The rust spots are last year’s Russian thistles. The charcoal clumps are bunch grass, probably needle grass. The water path has glazed over, and water now skims the top. The soil at the front has turned to sand.

3. My neighbor’s yard, 20 May 2007, when he was watering his grass with a hose every day.

4. My neighbor’s yard, 27 September 2009, after he stopped daily hand watering.

5. My neighbor’s yard, 8 April 2013, 4:41pm.

6. My neighbor’s back yard, 8 April 2013, 4:50pm.

7. My neighbor’s yard, 8 April 2013, 6:41pm.

8. My neighbor’s yard, 8 April 2013, 6:43pm.

9. My neighbor’s yard, 8 April 2013, 6:44pm.

10. Road at the turn into my drive, 8 April, 6:45pm.

11. Nails and broken glass by my house, 7 April 2013.

12. Same nails and broken glass, 10 April 2013.

13. My neighbor’s yard after the storm, 12 April 2013.

Killing Winds

Weather: Last rain 3/09/13; 12:21 hours of daylight today.

The weather records from Los Alamos and Santa Fé this week showed humidity levels as low as 6%. Yesterday’s winds gusted to 45 in Santa Fé.

What’s blooming in the area: Forsythia, daffodils coming into bloom. Weeping willow leaf buds forming, turning stems bright green.

In my yard: Apricot. Tulips coming up.

What’s blooming inside: Zonal geraniums, petunia.

Animal sightings: Rabbit.

Weekly update: In the midwest, when the weather turned too warm too soon, we got tornadoes, then cooler weather. Here, we just get high wind gusts and freezing temperatures. The winds came this last week, at the same time humidity levels were getting as low as the worst of summer. The only plant that benefits is the Russian thistle, which has leapt the fences to dump its seeds in protected beds.

The new trees and roses have made it so far. But winds have killed roses before by tearing off their leaves and desiccating their stems. Nothing is safe for another month. I can only hope the new peach will survive what’s coming. Because it’s too young to bloom, its ready to leaf. The established tree is slowed by the flower buds that are fattening, but not opening like their apricot cousins which will probably be dead this afternoon. Even so, most years the peach flowers are killed by early May snows.

With plants that are established, I’ve learned, even if the winds or coming cold temperatures kill the first growth, the roots will send up more.

It isn’t just the weather that kills. The rabbit is back. Last week, the first tulips were coming up.

 The bulbs had been uncovered by the dripping snow, and need to be recovered. When I went out to check on them yesterday, I found the rabbit had eaten them to the ground. They may put up leaves again, but they won’t bloom this year.

With the dry winter, there aren’t many other choices for the cottontail. But I don’t grow things to help the hungry wild animal population. I invest the money and labor for those occasional bits of beauty, like the apricot from a distance, that somehow defy the dangers of nature.

Photographs:
1. Apricot coming into bloom, 23 March 2013.

2. Jémez in the wind, 23 March 2013.

3. Russian thistle plant blown into garden bed, 23 March 2013.

4. Elberta peach leaf buds, 23 March 2013. Tree planted last summer.

5. Daylily leaves poking through dead leaves of established colony, 23 March 2013.

6. Tulip leaves and exposed bulbs, 16 March 2013.

7. Same tulip cluster after the rabbit, 23 March 2013.

8. Apricot from a distance, with yellow-green forsythia and brown Siberian peas in back, 23 March 2013.