|Drought Be Damned Red Sage|
Our state is on fire and it has taken me this long to notice. The worst drought in 90 years is what the papers say. I know it was weeks ago now, but the memory is still fresh of taking warm water out to the horses as theirs was frozen. I’m still pulling out plants from my beds that did not survive the bitter cold. How I grew tired of it, even though I knew people back east had it so much worse. I was cranky, irritable and barely impressed when we had a beautiful dusting of snow. Then, practically without noticing, the warm lovely days of our too short spring gave way to heat and unending dryness and an early summer.
|Indian Blanket trying to get started|
Compost, seedlings and rose beds just seem unimportant when people’s houses are burning. Back in my cozy neighborhood I could set my sprinklers and put this drastic state of affairs out of my mind. But out here in the country the reality and threat of fire is staring me in the face.
Gardening, farming- growing and loving anything (including animals and children!) – will eventually put you right where you belong and remind you of your place in the order of things. Texas is a land of flood and drought. I wrote about this two years ago when we first moved out here in another bad drought. We could pray for rain but I’m afraid of what that could get us. No, our maker uses mother nature to remind us of an agenda that is not of our construction (even though we surely have a part in all this weather craziness). It brings me to my knees in acceptance, which may be just the stance I need.