Thunder and Lightning
In 1972, Chi Coltrane, released her first, and probably her greatest hit called Thunder and Lightning. It is a simple song in terms of the lyrics and about the only thing it says is that “you’re in control”, and who knows what that means except perhaps that no one can control thunder and lightning and it is the ultimate uncontrollable state of nature. We all know that thunder comes from lightning, but I’m not sure everyone knows that it is specifically caused by the rapid heating and expansion of the air surrounding the electrical charge that is released by a thunder cloud as it seeks its resting place on the ground or its eventual return to its mother cloud. It is said that the heating of the air surrounding the bolt of lightning is so extreme that it reaches 50,000 degrees Fahrenheit, which is approximately five times hotter than the surface of the sun. I’ve never been to the sun, but that strikes me as pretty damn hot. That makes it easier for me to understand where that loud clap of thunder comes from, though I must admit that the physics of the sound elude me somewhat.
Last night I had been expecting a light rain shower at about 6pm, so I didn’t water the garden with that expectation. I was disappointed by the clear skies and figured I had made a watering error that would need to be corrected in the morning. Then, later in the evening I heard the rumble of distant thunder. They say that if you see a lightning flash and it takes less than thirty seconds for the thunder clap, you’re in the danger zone for a lightning strike and should take shelter. I was already inside and I didn’t recall when the lighting flash had been, but I could tell that the thunder was loud and that it was closing in on our hillside from the East.
Then, all of a sudden, it started to come down. I say it because I wasn’t quite sure what exactly it was that was coming down. From the rattling against the windows of the living room, I knew something unusual was up and that this was not just a run-of-the-mill thunderstorm. It sounded like something closer to sleet or hail coming down and coming down hard. It had grown very dark and I couldn’t see anything out the window to my left that faces West. I knew it was coming down on the deck, but I couldn’t see anything, even during the flashes of lightning. So, I got up and went to the front door, where most of the noise and commotion seemed to be coming from. I was a tad hesitant to open the door since the weather seemed to be coming in a bit laterally from that direction and I could hear the pounding on the door. When I did open it, what I saw was pretty surprising in an area like San Diego and on a day when the weather was in the high 80’s. There was hail the size of pea gravel all over the driveway and front stoop. To attest to the direction of the storm, there was a pile of hail stones stacked up to almost 5-6 inches right up against the door jam. I reached down and picked up a handful of the cold, but wet pebbles. They were classic layered hail stones, formed by a repetitive process of moisture being lifted up into the coldest parts of the clouds and freezing and refreezing as the layers of ice form up to make the hail stones.
The hail storm didn’t last too long, but the rain started and stopped a few more times as the evening rolled on. There was plenty of thunder and lightning all night long. As I went to bed, I noted that I was glad I hadn’t watered the garden after all. There had certainly been enough rain or melting hail to quench the garden’s thirst. My irrigation app tells me there was half an inch of rain over the last day. That’s a lot of rain, what is deemed as heavy rain for several hours. That amount of rainfall on an acre (which I deem to be the equivalent of my back hillside), is about 13,000 gallons, which if purchased from my local water authority, would cost about $94. So any way I slice it, that was a nice rainfall for the garden.
When I woke up in the morning, I glanced out the bathroom window and saw that my new plant buckets were all knocked over. That caused me to decide that I had better get up early and go check on storm damage. Needless to say, the hail had long since melted, but it had brought down plenty of leaves and branches. I went around righting all the planters and then raked all the DG pathways, which had been littered by a combination of tree leaves from whatever trees were nearest (mostly live oaks and my Madagascar bottle tree) and lots of the bark mulch which the storm had messed with. The bulk of the tree downfall was on the patio and driveway and that I cleared off with a rake and then my blower. By the time Kim had returned with Betty from their morning walk, I had cleaned up the entire property. That says less about how fast and hard I work than it does about the resiliency of the property that so little damage was inflicted upon it.
My day then went from property maintenance to property enhancement. I found a new nursery, which is not hard to do in this area. There are more nurseries than you can shake a stick at. I categorize them as sophisticated (Waterwise Botanicals and Oasis. Water Efficient Gardens), suburban (Green Thumb), simple and local (Javier and Nursery Outlet) and dangerous (Moon Valley Nurseries). I call Moon Valley dangerous because they don’t seem to know any numbers that don’t run into the four-figures. They only sell plants if they plant them and guaranty them. That is their business model for success. I bought five trees from them last year, an Irish Strawberry tree (where the planting was worth every penny of the price given the degree of difficulty), a Crepe Myrtle that has a tendency to flip back and forth from lush and flowered to scrawny and barely hanging on, an Ocotillo that has never really flourished and two Pygmy Palms down in the games area. The planting of the palms, the Ocotillo and the Crepe Myrtle were no great shakes and so far, I haven’t invoked the guaranty once though I came close once on the Ocotillo.
I had been looking for a Joshua Tree for in front of the Bison Boulder, but they are very hard to come by. I finally found one at the Coachella Moon Valley and they wanted $2,000 for it fully planted and guaranteed. I offered $1,500 and they never called back. That drove me to go spend $140 at the Nursery Outlet on Buena Creek Rd. for a Madagascar Palm, several different cacti and a small Dragon Tree. Those six plants will grow to be as impressive as the Joshua Tree and will add nicely to the variety of succulents and cacti on the property. The Joshua Tree will remain on its pedestal as a ten-foot high metal sculpture, while the garden flourishes with the dozens of cacti I have added on the back hillside over the last few weeks.
Not the hail, the thunder nor the lightning bothered my back hillside cactus garden for some reason. And then it struck me, I have a ten foot high metal sculpture of a Joshua Tree cactus sitting on a high ridge line out there. If I had tried to imagine a better lightning rod, I’m not sure I could have. So bring on the self-planted cacti and all the thunder and lightning the heavens can muster, I think my garden is protected.