After a
constant drumbeat on the news about how serious drought is throughout the
nation, I fully expected to just see fields of fried grass, crispy crops and a
general beige blight from sea to shining sea.
So, imagine my surprise, when my first day’s trip, crossing TX from San Antonio to Texarkana, was more like a trip through New England in early June. The grass was growing lush and green in the pastures, streams and ponds topped off with water and a beautiful blue lake on either side of Rte 30, seemingly full, shore to shore. Not what I expected.
So, imagine my surprise, when my first day’s trip, crossing TX from San Antonio to Texarkana, was more like a trip through New England in early June. The grass was growing lush and green in the pastures, streams and ponds topped off with water and a beautiful blue lake on either side of Rte 30, seemingly full, shore to shore. Not what I expected.
In Arkansas, a state featured nightly on our news with
images of cracked earth, cattle at auction, and corn the size of those little
ears found in Chinese stir fry, the highway was also bordered with green,
waist-high grass, flowers (looked like the marsh mallows of Cape Cod) filling
the ditches. More puzzlement on my
part. Either, I was just,
amazingly, following the one strip of land in both states untouched by the
drought, or, and I think this might be the case, the 3” of rain we received in
TX earlier this week, perhaps had drenched this area too.
And to me, the amazing part of that, is how quickly, how
almost chameleon-like, the scenery can go from mostly brown, back to a dazzling
green in such a short time. You
really have to hand it to chlorophyll.
One moment, dormant and shutting down, then, wham!, water arrives, heat
and sunlight show up, and “Houston, we have a go” and all hands are on deck, so
to speak, mixing those ingredients that suffuse the plant with a green glow of
healthy chlorophyll again. The rejuvenating spirit of nature, it never ceases
to astound me. Again, I am not a card-carrying botanist, but I do believe
that is the simple explanation for why this trip has been so lovely so
far. Rain has preceded me and
greened up the earth just in time for me to pass through. It brings to mind the Verna Aardema
,wonderful children’s story “Bring the Rain to Kapiti Plain”
to green up the grass, all brown and dead that needed the
rain from the cloud overhead”
And so it has.
Now, I am in TN, momentarily sidelined by a car whose
alternator chose the outskirts of Nashville to die in, so an extra day added
while I wait for repairs and, what happened last night? Another 3” of rain fell in a wild storm
that probably would have washed away my “little red wagon” had I been plowing
through it, so it’s probably for the best that I was forced to stop.
Yet, wherever I go, even the area surrounding a Motel 6,
there are interesting things to be seen.
I can’t believe it, but right over the door next to my room is a family
of barn swallows, babies all crowding the nest and looking as though they would
spill out at any moment. My guess
is this is the second brood of the season. Good for them.
An early walk with the dog through a nearby field for sale, showed the red, red, earth of clay that is present here, with a Grand-Canyon-like ravine created by the gush of rain rushing through it last night. I am back to east coast plants of Queen Anne’s Lace and Chicory, absent from the TX landscape but lining the roads here; dragonflies and swallows snapping up early morning insects. Lovely.
An early walk with the dog through a nearby field for sale, showed the red, red, earth of clay that is present here, with a Grand-Canyon-like ravine created by the gush of rain rushing through it last night. I am back to east coast plants of Queen Anne’s Lace and Chicory, absent from the TX landscape but lining the roads here; dragonflies and swallows snapping up early morning insects. Lovely.
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