In this part of Texas we are in a drought which is reported to be worse than that during the Great Depression.
We are forecast to have temperatures ranging between 110 and 112 degrees F through Saturday. Stepping out of the front door feels like stepping into a hairdryer with a hot, drying wind. It's been really hard to keep plants alive, and mostly, I haven't. Even the heat-hardy salvia I planted last year is looking like it's about to give up the ghost. It should have a fairly deep root system, and I don't water daily, but I really drench it when I do water, so it should be looking better than it is. I suppose even a native perennial can't hope to thrive under the steady onslaught of hot, battering winds. And it's no small irony that this weather had people all over Texas praying that a hurricane would sling some moisture their way. Sad when people will see the disaster aspect of a hurricane as secondary to the benefits, yes?
My oak leaf hydrangea-- my prize!-- is alive, but only barely, which is more than I can say for the other hydrangea which just turned to a little crisp. Astonishingly, the Passion Vine seems to be thriving, and it's really quite lovely. I hope it comes back after the winter. I'll put down a heavy mat of mulch and hope for the best.
It's been very discouraging. I had such high hopes and the garden started off so well, but again, the hair dryer effect is simply garden death. I suppose I shouldn't have wasted the water. :( This has me re-thinking my garden entirely. I have to face the fact that now I technically live in a completely different zone.
So yesterday was August 1, and I've been thinking with much consternation about how much more of this bloody hideous summer for which to brace. The first 110 degree day was in early May, so... There's been one fairly decent rainstorm in the past 6 months. Just the one. Meanwhile, we've heard of torrential downpours elsewhere that have giant rivers bursting levees and banks, and it's seemed bitterly ironic. Feast or famine.
So, I can bear however much longer of this goes on, but one hopes to have an idea of the light at the end of the tunnel on which to hang one's hat. I know that usually there is a hint of crispness and the wind-shift that is the harbinger of Fall generally by late September, Then again, too, I remember bloody hot October marching in the band in a wool uniform, and I'm struck by the horrid thought that we could be in for 3 more months of this unrelenting heat here. Not knowing of any such thing as a reliable horoscope for the weather, I looked up the Farmer's Almanac. Its forecast for the coming two months:
September and October will be much cooler and drier than normal.
Well, cooler? I'll believe that when I see that. Drier? We're already there, pal.