The Summer of No Tomatoes and the Winter of No Rain

January 4, 2012


The summer of no tomatoes appears to have been replaced by the winter of no rain.

The elusive summer of 2011 along the Central Coast began with May Gray, then June Gloom, followed by, one of the foggiest 4ths of July on record, (even by Pacific Grove standards) finding the locals huddled as usual, clustered around roaring bonfires on the beach, decked out in our traditional 4th of July ski parka jackets, clutching thermal mugs of hot coffee or clam chowder, in an effort to stave off frostbite before the annual fireworks show fizzled into the foggy mist of pastel colored puffs of smoke.

It wasn’t until I had reached the ripe old age of 30 and ventured inland to Chula Vista, that I actually saw fireworks displayed in the manner for which they were created; exquisite streams of sparkling colored lights reaching for the heavens…ah, the glory of fireworks, when not obscured by summer fog!

By August of 2011 it became apparent that the few marble sized anemic colored globes dangling from my tomato plants would never mature to the voluptuous late summer beauties that they were intended to be.

Was it something I did? Too much water? Too little fertilizer? I consulted with equally baffled neighbors and finally, the master gardener at the nursery. After all, Salinas CA is reputed to be the “Salad Bowl of the World.” Tomatoes practically grow like weeds around here. Basically, you plant them in the spring, throw a little water their way, forget about them, and then start reaping the bounty in August.

It was our local TV weatherman who finally shed some light on this fog shrouded mystery explaining our failures to produce this annual garden staple; we had simply experienced the coolest, foggiest summer in recorded history. The poor little tomato plants simply didn’t recognize the season as “summer.”

Hence our “Summer of No Tomatoes.”

Fast forward six months, give or take a week or two, to the glorious January of 2012. Traditionally, the winter skies along the Central Coast are clear, crisp and blue, blue, blue, with no trace of the foggy mist that hugs the coastline during the summer. This is the time of year when the weather is predictable; either clear, brisk and cool with daytime temps in the mid fifties, or raining, rather heavily some days, too, while the parched California hillsides soak up the welcome moisture and transform into lush green rolling landscapes along the coast, and snow capped mountains inland…or do they?

Once again, our seasons appear to have flip flopped!

Speaking of flip flops, that’s the winter footwear that many of the locals are wearing this month, to compliment their tee shirts and baggy shorts. Put aside those lovely new boots Santa brought you for Christmas because there appears to be no reason to wear them this season. Week after week, the TV weatherman cheerfully announces “no rain is forecast for the next ten days!” Funny, but I think I heard him say that last week, and the week before, and, as a matter of fact, I really don’t remember specifically the last time it rained around here.

Not that I’m complaining mind you! I’m a summer girl, a July baby, after all. I hate the cold weather. I want to move to Hawaii and dress in sarongs 365 days a year. However I do admit to being set back a bit today when I discovered my pet doves in the aviary in the patio were gleefully (yes, doves express glee!) bathing and flapping around in their water dishes, having a grand ol’ time splashing and carousing as if this were the hottest day of Indian Summer instead of being the first week of January, with patio temperatures of 72 degrees no less!

All of this fun and games is quite lovely for those of us who are winterphobic. However, as a native Californian, and having experienced a few droughts during my lifetime, I am cognizant of the water rationing programs that may become necessary this summer if we don’t start getting some rain pretty soon. I don’t fancy the idea of taking showers on alternate days or lining the toilet tank with bricks to conserve water. Therefore, as lovely as the past month of daily sunshine and warm temperatures has been, I may be able to welcome some bountiful seasonal rains, if anyone upstairs is listening…

I’ll get back to you in late August and let you know how the tomato harvest is coming along!

 

This is an excerpt from Where the Red Tailed Hawk Flies: Seasons Along the Central Coast

Copyright © 2012 by Gabriella Graham/Red Tailed Hawk Publishing/All rights reserved.

Visit Gabriella at www.wheretheredtailedhawkflies.com