It is mid-October and the temps are still in the high 80s. The drought continues, even with the 30-minute tropical downpour.
We are 10 inches under average for rain this year, and around 25 inches for the 2-year cycle.
It’s dry. The leaves are turning without the customary pop of color due to the drought. Trees older than the oldest living residents are dying, others’ desperate roots are clogging sewer lines and dismantling water mains in their search for life-sustaining water.
This is just a microcosm of what lies ahead. The Great Plains are drying fast, with rainfall totals approaching those of the last historic drought — some 1,200 years ago. Even the notorious Dust Bowl years saw the same rainfall; it came down too hard and too fast for the soil to absorb and the never-ending winds carried fertile topsoil from Texas to Canada.
We need rain. The sky is an unhealthy ocher. Blue skies carry the smudge of airborne dirt, pollen and smoke from fires a thousand miles away.
We need rain. We need winter. We need the safeguards against invasive, often deadly, pests. We need our crops to grow.
We need water.
Howling Yeti 