The heat and lack of rain earlier this summer were a real challenge to those of us who enjoy gardening. Thankfully, the dry spell seems to be over, and my plants are flourishing. I wrote this piece in 2012 when we experienced a similar summer of very little rain here in Michigan.
Rain Dance
Deborah Kellogg Lewis 7/18/2012
I dreamed of rain last night. It was very surrealistic, I have almost forgotten what rain looks or feels like. I look out the window at my yard, what used to be a lawn but is now a vast wasteland of bleached crispy plant material, and I wonder if it will ever look the same again. I have resorted to actually watering some of the grass nearer the house, but with fifteen acres you just have to let some of it go. In the last few weeks I have occasionally seen beautiful thunderheads building to the west. I get my hopes up only to have them dashed on the rocks of disappointment as they move to the south and pour their bounty on some other part of the world. I check the radar several times a day, hoping for some little patch of threatening weather to reveal itself.
This is the year that I made a commitment to farming on a larger scale. I believe that this drought is a direct challenge to my dedication to this endeavor. Well, let me tell you, Mother Nature, I will not be beaten down by your lack of attention to my little corner of the planet. I don’t blame you for punishing us. We have abused the earth beneath our feet and the air above in ways that are unforgivable. We deserve to feel your wrath, to be dried up and blown away, leaving the other creatures here on earth in peace. We are a pathetic species in so many ways.
I, however, will continue to practice a way of living that embodies what I learned as a Girl Scout – always leave a place cleaner than you found it. I will treat the soil and water with reverence and try very hard not to use more of anything than I really need. I will water my vegetables just enough to keep them thriving and hope for a decent harvest. I will use the fertilizers that are offered up by chickens, goats, and cows and pull weeds by hand or hoe. I will compost vegetable peels, coffee grounds and shredded paper and put it back where it belongs. I will encourage anyone who will listen to join me in honoring our home planet by rejecting the corporate model for living. And today I will do a rain dance.
Comments