Showing posts with label June. Show all posts
Showing posts with label June. Show all posts

Friday, June 13, 2014

Honk if you love the water


If it's June in Omaha, you'll find Canada geese nearly anyplace it's wet.

In this case, that would be the Little Papillion Creek along the Keystone Trail, where this caught my eye on my daily walk. It looks like the waterfowl are having themselves a little community swim.

I'll honk to that. Or they will. Somebody.

Thursday, June 17, 2010

. . . then the rains came


It's not this way in Louisiana come summertime.


There, I never had to study the radar, then go over the forecast again, then look at the sky, then just end up doing what my gut said and not watering the garden today because I figured it'd probably rain. No, I just had to look at the clock, and figure there would be a thundershower about the time the big hand was on the 12 and the little hand was on the 3.

TURNS OUT that today -- at least -- I guessed right. The vegetable garden and the wheelbarrow full of greens are happy now.


THAT'S Nebraska for you. That's the Great Plains for you -- the most aggravating place in America for figuring out just what the weather is gonna do.


AND THAT'S IT for the pictures. I was starting to get wet out there.

Just hangin' out


I'm just hanging out right now, having some coffee while I wait.


I'm waiting to see whether these clouds below will turn into the thunderstorms forecasters were worried enough about to issue a tornado watch.


It certainly feels like storm-producing weather out -- windy, 94 and muggy, one of the few mid-summery days we've had so far this year. Right now, the storm prospects for Omaha are kind of iffy, but the weatherman says if these clouds are going to turn into some storms, it won't be too long.


If they do, I won't have to worry about watering this.


Or this.


Look how fast the mustard greens are growing. I can almost taste 'em now.

Tuesday, June 01, 2010

June is bustin' out all over . . . Doppler radar


Welcome to June in the Midwest.

This, in particular, is how the last month of spring is being ushered in here in Omaha, by God, Nebraska.

You have your dark, ominous clouds. You have the weather radio going off. You have the local television stations dropping everything to track the storms and relate an ongoing stream of thunderstorm and tornado warnings.

And you wonder what you might have time to grab just in case you have to make a mad dash for the basement.


Yes, dogs, you are on the list of things to grab.