Rain

“The Sacrifice”

ESPatch Nov 10, 2009 16 comments

photo curtesy of Dave http://www.flickr.com/photos/grizdave/

The strangest thing happened to me the other day…

Hiking in an uncharted patch of the Patch, I noticed that I was ascending, I climbed steadily uphill for about two solid hours. I suddenly came to a clearing on top of a huge rock, it seems my rock was one of three holey rocks in the range, towering up out of the lower jungle verbena canopy. Stunned by the breathtaking view I sat down for a brief rest and one of my first ripe satsumas. In the far off distance my eyes were drawn to a small wisp of fire smoke on the valley floor, could it be another faction of the Naboo tribe perhaps?

Curiosity got the better of me, I had to find out. I checked my rations and decided although not enough, I would find some food on the way. I saw a small trail to the side of me that looked like it wound its way down the rock-face in front of me.

I checked my compass, pulled up my long socks – “English style” (just below the knee, just high enough to look totally ridiculous)…

and set off down the holey rock escarpment. I descended this Texas holey rock to a ledge, where, to my surprise, I found an enormous rope bridge stretching all the way across the valley to another one of the rocky mountains, I decided to make the perilous crossing across this rickety bridge. Who could have built such a structure? Where would it lead?

As I ventured down the length of the bridge I noticed that it terminated on the far side inside a cave.

Photograph by joint British-Vietnamese Caving Expedition 2009 / Barcroft Media Ltd.

A rather large cave as it turned out. There were a lot of strange subterranean creatures lurking in the shadows, and lots and lots of moths, attracted to the torch I had just lit. I have never had as many moths as I have had this year, they are everywhere in the patch right now, clouds of them.

That is quite the hair cut.

What incredible camouflage this moth had on this old Post Oak leaf

The cave had one rather annoying inhabitant that would not shut up about a ring. I quickly threw him a fish from my backpack (which struck me as very odd, as I had no recollection where it came from or how it got in their) and headed toward the cave exit.

Emerging out of the cave there was some really dense, tropical foliage. Sago palms, and potato vines made walking a lot harder.

Clambering through a dense thicket of Fatsia japonica I could see the small white flower clusters developing, getting ready for an end of year bloom.

Just like the fragrant mist flowers these also make the flies and insects go wild. I have four of these, they make great foliage fillers and add a really tropical appearance, with their large glossy leaves.

And what funky, poached-egg flower structures they have.

Continuing forward I found the small trail again, which led me to this, I can only assume it is some ancient temple of architectural significance. It looks like the central tower is a messaging beacon of sorts, although it was presently unlit, I could see what looked like the burnt remains of a fire at the very top.

As I was marveling at the Agave temple, the heavens suddenly opened up,

This Familiar Bluet damsel fly took refuge under this overhead canopy.

I took shelter and ate some Barbados cherries picked from a nearby bush. Pulling my jacket tightly around me I shut my eyes and rested.

I awoke to this motley crew, banging their spears on the ground, and wearing what looked to be modified chimineas as rather cumbersome headdresses. My eyes focused in on the particularly silly looking mask in the background, it’s jolly expression disturbing me to the core. What WAS this tribe… Naboo in ancient origin perhaps? I tried a few mouth clicks combined with some rudimentary tribal gestures that I knew, but they garnered no response, in fact they bound and gagged me, ensuring I did no more. I needed Bob at Draco Gardens to appear, with his superior tribal translation talents.

They tied me up to a log and transported me through the verbena jungle…I feared the worst. My anxiety rose even more as we passed these tiny impaled bodies.

I felt nauseous. Looking up at all these gummy corpses. Was this to be my fate in the Patch? Impaled on a massive sacrificial barrel cactus like a gummy bear?

I screamed out, then screamed some more Ahhhhhhhh! then…

…I must have woken my wife up uttering the words…“No, no, click clack …please..click…nooooooo”! Because the next thing I remember is being jabbed in the ribs, and hearing: “Your having a bad dream and quit all your mouth clicking! it is four in the morning, your going to wake the kids!”

That explains how Gollom’s fish got into my backpack.

“That was one crazy night, huh D?”

Happenings happening in the Patch this week…

The late afternoon sun seemed captured in this small purple Philippine violet vessel.

Barleria cristata

The aesthetically sharp top foliage of this plant is almost aloe-like in form, a great contrast to the soft, purple trumpet blooms. A dependable performer. I just wish the blooms lasted a little longer, they bloom and drop quite fast it seems.

I have been trying to get a shot of one of these large wasps for quite some time. They have been visiting my amaranth from the moment it started to bloom. The most unnerving thing about these wasps is not only their sheer size, (this one was a smallish one) but the way they scurry around…they are extremely agile. I assumed that they would also be fast to sting, so I have been approaching them from afar, at arms length with the camera. Today though I managed to get in closer, and it did not mind at all.

These are cicada killer wasps., and they can get to1-½ to 2 inches in length.

Sphecius speciosus (Drury)

These wasps are large, solitary, ground dwelling wasps that provision their homes with cicadas after stinging and paralyzing them. Larvae feed only on cicadas, and the adult will feed on flower nectar.

Fly away cicada, fly away!

Artemisia and Cosmos…ice and fire

A fall gathering.

This Desert Trumpet Vine, just continues to bloom and bloom. Bumper year this year. These flower clusters are about a foot around.

I want to finish with this very intestinal potato vine, just to gross you out before saying …

“FRREEEDOOOOM”!

You didn’t think this post could escape this sacrifice did you?

Stay Tuned for:

“The Company of Wolves”

All material © 2009 for eastsidepatch. Unauthorized
intergalactic reproduction strictly prohibited, and
punishable by late (and extremely unpleasant)
14th century planet Earth techniques.

“All Hail Tlaloc”

ESPatch Sep 12, 2009 10 comments

“All Hail Tlaloc, All Hail Tlaloc, All Hai…”

(Aug,2011) I have been informed by the Harvard University Extension School that the first image is actually not Tlaloc but Cinteotl the Maize God. I appreciate this correction.

This has been the mantra for the tiny members of the Nabooboo tribe the last few days. They have all been shuffling around in the rain, (yes I said rain), mumbling it under their breaths, and making strange gestures into the sky. I even observed them hoisting up this five inch high epitaph onto a stone platform under one of my yuccas.

Tlaloc, as it turns out, is god of the rain within ancient Mesoamerican mythology, which gives us some insight as to the origins of the Naboo tribe. His name comes from “tlalli” and “octli” meaning ‘earth’ and ‘wine’. He embodies the process of water coming together with earth, inciting and empowering fertility, nourishment, and destruction, (oh and how we needed some liquid nourishment in Central Texas). He is god of lightening, thunder, and all storms, floods, or droughts. Tlaloc is at once the creator, the sustainer, and the destroyer. Kind of like an ancient, and much more talented Conan.

Whatever offering the tribe has made to Tlaloc, it has worked. We finally have had some sustained rains in Austin, a long soaking, and it is just what the doctor ordered.
“I do not remember ordering that ESP? Are you sure that was me?

My rainwater “system”

As I sit here writing this, I can hear thunder reverberating around the patch and the sound of rain rain hitting hard on our metal roof, rain that is filling up the myriad of vessels in my “everything, including the kitchen sink” rainwater collection “system”. The weather has created the “Perfect Storm” in my stock tank…

The “Andrea Gail” was having all sorts of problems as it tried to fight it’s way through the lashing rain coming down from the gutter.

I have actually been going outside, every couple of hours, to empty the multitude of buckets and pans etc, as they continuously fill up. I throw the contents out anywhere and everywhere with a crazed expression on my face, a face obsessed with saturating the land, and that is one crazy face, trust me.

“Here’s Johnny, with another bucket of the wet stuff!”

I feel like somebody from one of those old war-time desert movies where the unfortunate thirsty characters come upon a mirage, and go completely mad over the water, only to realize that it is only a badly filmed mirage. It has been so long that we have had any decent rain, it isn’t a mirage, is it? Have I just been running around the patch in an iced turban, throwing buckets of sand from my kid’s sand-box on my plants, convincing myself it was water? Is it still 105 degrees and dry?

I happened upon this shy female tribal member of the Naboo out on a snail gathering expedition, (a major source of nutrition). The agave “shoulder-dress” is believed to force the head of the gatherer forward and down toward the ground encouraging the wearer to stay focused on the “snailling” activity at hand. The Mexican Lime tree (top) reacts very strangely and dramatically to the rain, especially prolonged rain like we have been experiencing.

The tree starts to flop! It is really quite disturbing, but it does make the limes reachable for tiny hands. My youngest hobbit was on this odd phenomena in an instant. I should have known, it was just too quiet, for too long in the patch, a dead give away that someone was up to no good. I stopped my watering frenzy to find the hobbit tucking into the tree, arms moving like Edward Scissor hands, picking, scattering and involuntarily dicing limes around his rather large hobbit feet.

The Giant Timber Bamboo looks like it has had a coat of lacquer, the rains have really brought out the browns in these culm sheaths.

The browns on this Opuntia trunk have also been accentuated. I have been cutting the base of this one quite ruthlessly over the past couple of years or so, to try to get more of a tree-like habit. I then saw the “Strolling Down Honeysuckle Lane” post on Germi’s blog http://thegerminatrix.com/ and was blown away by the specimen she photographed in San Antonio. I am now on a quest to have my own Opuntia tree, and no, I will not be carving any faces in this one. RIP CM.

This Soft leafed Yucca does not seem to care what the weather does, it always looks good, both in color, margins and form.

Mexican Fire bush Firecracker Shrub, Mexican Fire bush, Scarlet Bush, Hummingbird Bush.

Hamelia patens

This plant is actually a native Mexican shrub or small tree. The shrub never reaches its potential height of thirteen feet in Texas because it is usually frozen back to the ground, to re-emerge the next year. For some reason this one did not re-emerge this year like it was supposed to, so I planted another one earlier this year in the same location, look at it now!

A great hummingbird attractant.

The front garden, anyone know what the grassy, grey looking succulent is? The rain has really greened up all the rosemary that was turning a subtle yellow. You can see the almost-bare hell-strip under the desert willow. This area is going to be mounded with decomposed granite and soil, then planted with a mass planting of soft leafed yucca for structure and bamboo muhly for movement.

Staying in the front garden a moment:

Amaranth starting to put on it’s luxurious, regal, fall robes.

This Blackfoot daisy has now sprawled half-way across the side-walk, it received quite a bit of addition water this year due to my failed attempt to save a transplanted Bog Cyprus tree. Nothing is too hot for this little plant.

My Cycas have been revitalised…

and with the rains came a lot of puddle stomping fun.

And finally…

This pilot was forced to land his private jet on a small granite walkway in the ESP, after encountering the bad weather. His co-pilot, strangely adorning four arms, seemed particularly pleased that they were safely on the ground, probably due to the fact that the plane had tiny wings and his face was only a couple of inches away from the over-sized propeller.