Images from my very own Dust Bowl

I walked outside this evening, just before dark.  It looked as if maybe, just maybe, it might rain this evening.  I have my fingers crossed.  If it did, it would be the first time in a month.  If it doesn’t reach the triple digits tomorrow, it will be one of the handful of times since it’s rained.  Everything is burning up.  Turning brown.  The grass crackles when you step on it.  I live on a small farm.  In order to keep our garden green, we have to water it for hours every single day.  If we missed a day, we would have zero chance at harvesting a single vegetable. 

It’s getting scary.  In the back of my mind, I worry the water will run out.  Or that by some fluke accident, the crispy grass will catch fire.  Or that one of the animals will overheat.  Any number of scary situations cross my mind every day.  I have an overactive imagination, but my mind doesn’t have far to go in this situation.  The ground is parched.

I worry that the dust bowl will happen all over again.  I only have an inkling as to what it was like, but from what I’ve experienced so far it must have been a living hell.  I just hope it rains before it comes to that.

This is one of our pastures.  The whole pasture should be as green as the stripes.  They get water from our sewer’s lateral lines.  The rest of the pasture is crispy.

This little marigold grew from seed on it’s own.  It’s the one plant in our yard that is thriving.  We think it must be getting some water from the pipe that is behind it.  Every other flower shows some kind of sun damage or is drooping and near death.  This flower is defiant.