Remember when it used to rain and storm throughout April (at least in the east)?  We finally got much-needed thunderstorms all night and into today.  It’s flashing and crashing as I write, with flash flood warnings.  We don’t have storm drains here, like normal towns, so it could turn into a river out there!

Have I mentioned I love rain?  I’m drawn especially to wetlands wildlife and marginal aquatic natives.  I feel like I am the thirsty plants and animals, reveling in the relief. Even from my upstairs nature desert, I can feel it.  (I’m not so into raw sewage, though.)

At my old hort job in MD, working outside for the most part, I confess there were times I didn’t appreciate being soaked to the bone, but I was always happy for all the plants and tadpoles depending on it.  There were those inevitable diehard customers who stood there with their umbrellas while we scurried around in the pouring rain, but I could relate.  When you’re a rain-loving plant person, you’re pretty waterproof.  (During my job with the MD state parks, I used to swim with families of beavers.)

Forced to retire to caregive full-time back in NJ, their garden wasn’t really mine to manage, but I used to sneak out there whenever I could and tend my discrete little parcels of perennials and bird areas.  When I could, I volunteered with the town garden committee, who installed and maintained many green spaces, including a small arboretum we planned and created.  We also managed the modest farmer’s market in town.

Still retired in OH, and discouraged from venturing into our own yard by the unfortunate new tenants, I’m living for the day we can finally be free to garden and grow our own food, set aside wildlife areas, even create a small pond.  You’ll know where to find me then.  In our own Secret Garden.