Alpine rain

Winter rain in our region often changes the appearance of the landscape.  Yesterday, we got rain.  A fair amount of it.

So I thought you might enjoy the beautiful view we had from our balcony this morning.

Here in the South of France, rain does not usually include light drizzles.  When I was younger, I usually didn't pay that much attention to what kind of rain we got.  As an adult living on the East Coast of the USA, mostly in the South, rain just mostly meant more humidity, something I wasn't used to, having grown up on the West Coast.

The rain in South Florida, where I spent more than a decade, usually involved heavy downpours.  The weather reports announced with amazing accuracy just when it would rain, between which major roads, what time it would start, and how long it would last.  No matter how much the typical downpours dumped on us, it would completely disappear within half an hour, as we were sitting on a rock and sand bed.

Then we lived in Paris for over another decade.  Nothing was accurate.  And it drizzled all the time.  All my coats had hoods so I didn't get stuck forgetting an unneeded umbrella or being caught out without one.  Such a contrast from South Florida!

Gauge the rain

Now, for over another decade (my, how time flies; it was just yesterday we were rearing our kids in FL), we have lived in the South of France.  Officially, it has the most number of sunny days yearly for the whole country.  Most people are surprised, however, that the annual rainfall is actually quite similar to Paris.  The way that comes about is the force and quantity of rain down here when it does precipitate.

We got an even two inches of rain the other day, then we forgot to empty the gauge.  I've never had one of those before, but now it's quite interesting to see just what we're getting; sometimes it can seem rather awesome.  When we got the massive rains in November (maybe the five months worth was record-breaking, I forget now), the official records corresponded to my little gauge, so it's apparently fairly accurate. 

As you can see, we added another inch and a half yesterday.  That wouldn't be that big of a deal, but it can create chaos both on our property with half our upper dirt being washed down our driveway, or on the public routes with small to massive landslides onto the necessary roads.

On the other hand, when it rains in the winter, we get treated to some spectacular views from the warmth of our cozy living room.  This is from exactly eight years ago in 2007.

Mediterranean Alps

Highest peak in the range

However, we prefer that this white stuff stays way off in the distance like this.  Not only does it freeze our plants that push the temperature limits, but it causes us some personal headaches we can live without.  This is our driveway exactly ten years ago in 2005.  As I recall, it took about 15-20 days to burn off, as the winter sun doesn't rise high enough over the neighbor's oak trees to warm it up enough.  (We now have a snow shovel, having learned hard lessons, plus snow boots!)

Bottom of the driveway . . .

. . . continuing to the top.

So far this season, we have had a very mild winter, so we've been able to do some outside projects but haven't gotten great snowy views.  Until this morning.  This is just across the river from us, which is just way too close to home.  This mountain is over 5,000 feet/1550 meters high and just over 21 miles/35 km from the Med.  We are at 1,000 feet/300 meters and about 6 miles/10 km.  That does make a difference, as so far nothing has frozen, including our pool!

Not exactly what one expects on the French Riviera. 

Still, if it's going to happen, we might as well enjoy it.  And now, so can you!