Rain

  

We’ve been living a little over the past year about thirty minutes north of Dallas. Initially, the biggest sticker shock was the heat. Right off the bat last year we experienced 21 days in a row of minimum 100 degree weather. About three weeks back we had a string of days around 107, 108, 109. But I have to admit this second summer is much easier on me and the family. Our bodies have somehow acclimatized.

Unfortunately, we’ve had a very, very dry summer. I can’t remember the last time we had a thunderstorm. Had to be early May or April, I think. Since Memorial Day, we’ve only had a half hour of rain. And I know this because since Memorial Day I’ve been reciting that statistic, day in and day out, week in and week out, month in and month out.

My lawn is taking a beating. It’s on life support: dry, yellow, brittle. Thousands and thousands of tiny blades of grass are undergoing near death experiences as I type. Perhaps forty percent of my lawn is in this bad shape. Part of me is concerned because I’m waiting, just waiting, for one of those snide letters from the HOA. However, it’s not just me; the entire neighborhood lawns are suffering.

And not only is the grass suffering, but cracks are sprouting up in the dirt patches at the edges of my yard. Deep cracks that look like miniature Grand Canyons to me. If I suddenly flashed back to the age of ten, I’d have a field day with those cracks and my green plastic Army soldiers.

Yeah, the house came with one of those in-ground lawn sprinkler systems, set on a twice a week timer, but I think it needs adjustments and overhauls, and I’ve been lazy in getting someone out to look at it and fork over the coin to get it adjusted and overhauled. So the past week I’ve been spending about a half hour a day watering my poor Bermuda grass manually, hose in hand, ten minutes on the front, ten minutes on the side, and ten minutes in the backyard.

It seems to be improving, very, very slightly.

What we need, what Texas needs, is rain.

Not a Texas-sized thunderstorm. Not torrential downpours that whip though the plains. No, we need a nice, long, thorough but mellow raining.

Water is very, very expensive down here. My water bill is thrice what it was up in New Jersey. It might be the one thing that costs more down here than the Great Tax of New Jersey – I mean, State. So I don’t want to quadruple that bill because I’m doing the necessary leg work that Mother Nature isn’t.

I’m writing this as I sit at my work desk at the home office. The second floor window looks out over a park directly across the street. Above that park are very heavy, very dark, and very ominous storm clouds, stopping by the neighborhood somewhat indecisively. Thunder booms in the distance every ten minutes or so, rattling the windows a bit, and I caught a flash of lightning out the corner of my eye a few minutes ago.

What we need right now is rain.

Lingering rain.