Mid-afternoon I looked up from my work to take in the view. The sky was looking dark and funny. At the next stop an hour later I looked up and saw a wall of water falling from the sky. Out beyond yonder past the mountain where I live was no longer visible. Could it be?
I drove home through fallen water and the roads were wet headed up the mountain. Could it be? Not really. All I got was spit. The desiccation continues.
Sunday is the last best chance for falling water before another week of dry sets in. At least the desiccation of dry is partially similar to fall color.
The asters are trying. The Frost Aster seems less affected and more drought tolerant than the shade loving Blue Wood Aster.
It is looking quite normal while the Blue Wood Asters that are attempting to bloom looked stunted in the petal department.
I better get some rain on Sunday even though it is too late for the departed. This can't be good for my baby trees and shrubberies.
It looks somewhat like the New England Aster, Symphyotrichum novae-angliae, but it is paler and more pinky than the average. I'll need to look closer, but at a glance the leaves looked smaller. I don't think my asters always stick to their own kind. There are bound to be hybrids mixed in with the Lush.
The Goldenrods are the loudest element in the meadow now.
Snakeroot, Boneset and Ironweed blend in.
Rain please, steady and gently. I want my asters.