We have had a hot, dry summer which has been great for holiday makers and reassuring that the seasons can be as they should be.
My local weather station reports that there has only been 30.9mm or 1.22 inches of rain this year. We usually get a good regular amount of rainfall but no rain, a lot of drying winds and hot temperatures sees my immediate views looking like this.
Fellow blogger Juliet Batten, who lives in the more northern part of my island (North Island, New Zealand) has just blogged this about drought and dry seasons. Her post has resonated with me as I watch the external drought ravage my garden, including some natives and tall trees, but it has also touched my internal drought. The latter due in part to a long –winded tooth saga, resulting in an extraction and a painful dry socket.
I am finding Juliet’s suggestions and links in her blog post to fill the inner well very helpful.
I went about my garden yesterday and took some photos. What became obvious to me was that some plants were not yet going into late autumn mode thanks to the warm, dry weather we have been experiencing for a few weeks now.
I could only find one rose-hip where normally there are many by now and a small patio rose has put on new leaf and lo and behold has new flower buds.
But the Smoke bush is in full autumn colour from yellow, to orange, to red, to deep crimson and its leaves are falling in the breezy conditions this week.
And the Cotoneaster has its berries swelling and deepening into bright red. They are not ripe enough yet for the birds but I am watching for the feast to begin.
Many of the deciduous trees look dry-leaved but are not turning their vibrant colours because our nights have not been cold and crisp yet.
And just to confuse things a little further the small kowhai bushes are busy flowering.
I was overjoyed to see a large bee harvesting pollen from one of our roses this afternoon. Honey bees are a rare sight in our garden now after the Varroa mite decimated hives in New Zealand.
I hope the population can regenerate strongly. We need our honey bees.