forty days, no rain,
creek bed littered with dead leaves,
one small water hole
Went for a walk this evening, the first time in more than a moon. Met some neighbors also out for a stroll in the cool air, the first break we've had since the long heat wave began. Of course the subject is the weather, forty days and forty nights with no rain, the longest hot dry spell since 1955, and that coming hard on the heels of the record run of rain and flooding. We did have one storm a few nights ago, but only half an inch of rain and lots of branches down from the wind. Not enough to erase the wide cracks in the ground. The drought is starting to affect the trees, their leaves curling inward, showing their lighter undersides, the way they do when a storm is brewing, only there's no sign of rain. Some of the pines have turned brown and died, from too much rain or too little, hard to say. And some white oaks have died, the leaves all turning brown overnight. Sounds like that beetle that bores under the bark and infects the tree with a fungus. After we go our separate ways, I walk down to the creek. The last time I came this way I sank to the top of my rubber boots in mud. Now the creek is dry, littered with dead leaves, only a few small water holes. This overhanging tree looks like it's bending down for a drink from a shrinking pool hugging its roots.