The equinoxial winds are such a feature of life on the east coast of both islands that a predecessor of this column, Roland Clark, penned his column under the title Norwester.
I’ve just had a look at the Marlow weather station data and saw this spring there have been only a handful of gusts more than 50kmh with the highest being just 80kmh – a mere zephyr compared to the battering of over 120kmh that we usually get at times over several weeks.
That same day, September 26, was the highest average wind run of a gentle 33kmh then just a handful about 25kmh and the rest of the spring has just been windless or quiet spring breezes.
This lack of thrashing from the wind has seen the trees greatly appreciate the respite.
We have planted a lot of flowering cherries on the farm and around the garden over the years and this year they are holding on to all their wonderful blossom. Usually, it is blasted off in short order looking like a summer snowstorm. The prunus Shimidsu-Sakura around the house, with their stunning clusters of large double white blooms, look particularly fetching.
Thirty-odd years ago I was quite taken with the Malus or crabapple trees I saw flowering in late spring and planted about a dozen varieties. They are just starting to open their flower buds so I look forward to a good showing from them.
The natives are also putting on a good show with the rich yellows of the kowhai and the various manuka varieties. The ones I’m most fond of are the red flowering cultivars, which are hybrids from a single plant discovered near Kaiapoi in 1904 and from some Californian selections. They are profusely covered in masses of red flowers and the bees are going crazy in them. I wonder if the manuka honey tastes or looks any different?
And, of course, there are the cabbage trees or ti kouka whose large, flowering bodies are just about to open with their pungent scent. I’ve collected a lot of seed from the 150-year-old trees that have survived the axe, bulldozers, fires, stock pressure and the virus (actually a mycoplasma-like organism) that has taken so many and now have hundreds of young ones also flowering. Even some of them succumb to the virus, which breaks my heart.
It’s not just the flowering trees that have benefited from the lack of wind.
The new, lush, soft foliage on the poplars, willows and oaks is usually being thrashed to bits but has looked magnificent, appreciating being left alone from the usual wind.
Of course, I might have just invited a late onset of equinoctial gales but I hope not.
Along with the lack of wind has been little rain, which has made it such a nice spring for living but pastoral farmers are getting a bit nervous.
That storm at the beginning of September dumped 200mm and filled up the soil with water but since then we have had just 30mm though the low wind run means evapotranspiration has been modest.
My green feed crops have been drilled but not struck yet and the clover is rapidly disappearing from the short pastures.
However, there is a bit of rain forecast over the next few days so, hopefully, it comes to something.
