What was I thinking to ignore that little voice that chimed repeatedly in my head last week that said “till the garden, better till the garden?” I became distracted with other gardening tasks and failed to heed that reminder. I shoved the thought to the back of my mind and – despite what the weather forecast predicted – thought the sunny weather might hold out just long enough for me to fire up the old “rotokiller” and get the job done.

Now I stand at the window and watch the incessant rain seep into the untilled earth. No freshly sown beet and carrot seeds anxiously wait there to drink in that rainwater. Darn! Now I’m forced to wait for another little break of sunshine and wind that will dry things out a bit. One look at the weather.com Web site assures me my patience will be tested.

In the computerized image, huge masses of color-coded rain clouds stretch from Augusta to Holden and deep out into the Gulf of Maine on the site this morning. Although a good portion of seemingly decent weather follows in its wake, a larger more ominous batch of clouds threatens from the west and is so extensive that the aerial map of New England and upstate New York can’t even contain them.

And so, this brings me to yet another of the periodic confessions I make to you all: when it comes to the weather I’m a big, irresponsible baby. I only partially rely on the forecasts from my favorite weather Web site and make very little attempt to actually tune in to the prevailing weather cues of nature above.

As you see, this isn’t the most sensible thing to do. This little admission is a hard truth for me to swallow.

Several years ago, I got into the habit of monitoring our “weather station” – you know, one of those wall-mounted gadgets that houses a thermometer, barometer (which measures atmospheric pressure and may herald a changing weather pattern) and a humidity gauge. I’d watch the sky and try to “read” the clouds and relate it to the trends of past days, information on the station, the forecast in the newspaper. I had a rain gauge in the yard that measured precipitation. I’d religiously call my mother who lives just a half-mile down the road every morning to see if her rain gauge had collected more precipitation than mine.

I was mad about the weather! I really wanted to be one of those people who could sit on the porch in my Adirondack chair, look at the sky and say in a confident, totally relaxed manner, “rain in three days,” or “no danger of frost tonight.” Try as I might, though, and mad as I was about accumulating information, I never got any good at making long-term predictions with any accuracy. Plus it occurred to me that I don’t even have a porch or an Adriondack chair! Not only was my aspiration not panning out, but I simply wasn’t equipped with the perch or seat to accommodate my vision!

And so, you see, this is how I became a virtual weather consumer. Now that this is all out in the open, I should attempt to reform my ways, shouldn’t I? I’ve got to roll up my sleeves and take this thing seriously. I mean, what sort of gardener am I?

We gardeners, like farmers, are at the mercy of the weather. If you garden, you’re probably in tune with the elements more than the average person. This interest in the goings-on of Mother Nature is just one tie that binds all gardeners, past and present.

Historically, weather meteorologists have used tools such as the barometer, thermometer, hygrometer, rain gauge and weather kites to predict the weather. But things have changed, haven’t they? According to the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, which has been monitoring and cataloging weather patterns since 1970, data and images from remote sensing systems such as instrumented balloons, radars, and satellites are now part of the array of tools that weather watchers use. Computers process and model the data collected by a national network of observers and observation systems. Using the information gathered, the computers generate forecasts, maps, and even three-dimensional models we see through the media.

Compared to the technology that men and women used 50 or 100 years ago to monitor the weather, our weather gathering systems indeed seem high tech. Yet, the overall concept has not changed all that much. Really, it’s the rate that data is collected and processed, the quality and the speed with which the information can be spread to nonweather observers, which has increased tremendously.

Checking in with my favorite weather Web site, I’m able to update the movement of rain clouds every 15 minutes or so simply by clicking on my “refresh” button. In the time it took me to write to you, I’ve watched those color-coded clouds move off to the north and east so that all but just a small portion of Down East Maine appears to be rain-free.

But wait! Outside my window, the rain has stopped, yet a huge, thick layer of clouds lingers overhead. No wisps of sunshine poke through. Oh well. The weather will come and go, won’t it? Patience, patience, patience. Those are the lines running through my head.

Diana George Chapin is the NEWS garden columnist. Send horticulture questions to Gardening Questions, 512 North Ridge Road, Montville 04941 or e-mail dianagc@midcoast.com. Selected questions will be answered in future columns. Include name, address and telephone number.