Aug 15th, 2011 | By | Category: Senior Moments Blog

Drought Parches the Land

“Blue skies, nothing but blue skies heading my way” so go the lyrics of a favorite song.  That song depicts Texas and other states in the south and southwest.  Lots of blue skies, but no clouds, no moisture, no thunderheads, no rain.

The result in Texas is a very depressing and dry climate that is taking its toll on everybody, rural and urban, lakeside and farm, green grassy lawns and trickling streams.  It is a phenomenon not new, historically, according to the New York Times on Sunday, August 14 “As Texas Dries Out, Life Falters and Fades.”

Those of us who live here endure, but not without an ache for the land.  Trees have taken on the look of fall, lots of browns and yellows, the sign of death is in the air.  A huge limb lies in the front lawn, stressed from lack of moisture, waiting to be hauled away.  Leaves fall as one takes the trek to town, looking more like late September than mid August.  Watering is desirable, but not always wise.  Taking water from the ground to wet the ground may seem helpful, but threatens more grave conditions.

How long will it last, can it last?  The Times editorial suggests studies which indicate that some droughts, throughout history, have had a long life.  Deny that those who believe everything still comes up roses.  Soon water conservation will be more and more the desired discipline, the recognized necessity.

Is There An Answer?

Blithely life seems to attempt going on at its leisurely pace.  Politicians claim issues that have far less import, folk wash their cars, weather reporters try to josh over the triple digit temperatures, farmers sit at auctions mourning the loss of land and cattle and years of hard work.  And no rain comes.  Prayers are lifted.  We still accept that exercise, but where are the rain dances and the austerity as speed boats skip across last remaining waves?

Life falters and fades.  Somewhere out there beyond those blue skies must be the refreshing source of life.  That which made us, sustains us, revives us, reminds us of our mortality will surely come. The parched dry land awaits, our spirits thirst, our hope endures.

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