I was out on the deck yesterday when a little rain squall blew through. A bit of rain just for us. It fell hard, then stopped. Then started up again a few minutes later. Maybe it was two squalls. Hard to tell. It is plain to see the atmosphere is disturbed. Lots of clouds tumbling about, sweeping this way and that, most of them, I assume, carrying moisture from the Gulf.

Given the normal paucity of rain in the Hill Country I am loath to complain about turbulent weather. Actually, it’s nice to see the grass is green and needs mowing in late June. Of course, the humidity is up, and there are those who watch that relative humidity. Having spent fifty years on the Gulf Coast I pay little attention to it. Hot and humid was simply the conditions in which I lived, and if it comes this way to the Hill Country that’s just the price I pay for rain in the summer.

Besides, I think my plants like it. Everything looks happy, leaves are flush with water and flowers are breaking out all over. My little crop of Marigolds in particular looks fine as do all the silver pony foots who are spilling out of their pots and covering the ground around. I’m thinking that once established they may do really well on their own. But before I start counting chickens I need to remember July and August are still afoot and headed this way and those are the sun days when creeks run dry, the ground is as hard as a rock, and even the shade of a mesquite feels good.