Plodded down to the plot in rubber boots to check the flooding. The heads of clover and common daisies were six inches underwater in some places, swaying as if transformed into seaweed. My onions are surrounded by a moat. I hope they do not rot off.
The soil where I attempt to weed is viscous, muddy. We have been making mounds of compost and horse manure, building it up year by year, but hungry vegetables seem to eat as much as we can load on and then the level sinks once more. There is a process of constant replenishment.
So much water has fallen that our apple trees sit healthily on little islands above the sodden grass.
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