We received a little drizzle last evening, and a touch of mist this morning. It was lovely to feel the cool dampness on my face when I walked the pups out to retrieve yesterday’s mail. We received just enough moisture to plump the moss on trees a tad, and to dampen the dusty lane. A short shower early this afternoon was just long enough to entice me out on the porch with a cup of tea to enjoy the sound of rain in the gutters and downspouts. All too soon, the sun parted the clouds and you would never know it had rained.
We have had a total of three quarters of an inch of rain for the entire late spring and summer stretch. That three quarters of an inch arrived on August 5 after 52 days of nothing in the rain gauge. What fell last night and today didn’t add more than a slick of moisture to the gauge; but Autumn is coming, the signs are there, and rain will soon fall. I’ll be so happy to see it.
The ground is so very dry. Since our scary heat dome event in late June and early July, my husband and I have hauled nearly a quarter mile of hoses across our field, sometimes two or three times a week, to water our young trees. They had begun to show stress from the heat and drought. My heart is deeply vested in these trees; hauling those hoses is a labor of love, and is no quick and easy task because we have planted nearly 100 over the past five years. Some are scattered in groupings along the edge of the field and others are tucked into the forest. Every spring young seedlings sprout in the rocks with which I border the garden beds. We carefully lift them and pot them up. They get pampered for a season and then planted out amongst their elders.
The first cedars and firs we planted are now nearly 20 feet tall. When I water, I drench the earth beneath each tree, and then spray as high as I can, watching drops fall like diamonds through the branches. When I stand still, birds come to bath in the spray and bunnies creep out to nibble the damp clover. I am so grateful for the beautiful water flowing faithfully from our well, and relieved to see tender new growth on small firs just planted this spring. I’ll continue to haul those heavy hoses until our rains return, they cannot come soon enough.