Send Rain

My area of the Hill Country--often referred to as "God's Country"--is looking and feeling more and more like the devil's playground. We are in our 8th week of 103-106 degree temps. Many living things are--as one of my horticultural friends would say--"taking a hit". We have lost several older shrubs and one of our two apple trees.

The Frio River is running at 2 cubic feet per second, which is basically zippo. Any water left in deep holes is stagnant and breeding bacteria. I think this chart tells the story. You see, even 100 cfs is not very good.


I feel as if we're stuck in the Elmer Kelton novel "The Year it Never Rained" which was set in a fictitious Texas town not far from here. Today the inevitable--our well went dry. There was only a trickle--not enough pressure for our garden's drip irrigation, so we had to turn off the pump to keep it from burning up.

In just one afternoon the effects are already visible. There will be choices, and more losses as we figure out what to do. Not good for farming. I've been running around all day trying to direct the trickle from one sad looking plant to another.

Even the cacti are dying. Having just returned from visiting cliff dwellings, I can now understand why the Pueblo Ancestors (the new politically correct name for Anasazi) had to move on down the road.