A Dry Land

Early morning.

The heat of the previous day kept on through the night. For the third week in a row we’re starting the day with heat. As a result of the drought the landscape is more brown than it is green; Fall season brown but without the oranges, reds and pale yellow/greens, or the crisp air.

The dogs and I are out on the prairie. The dry grass crunches beneath my feet as I walk, Meadow Brome seeds catch in the hair of the dogs as they travel. Smoke from distant forest fires in the North is in the air creating a sombre scene. The ongoing heat is tough to dismiss from my thoughts, my worry. Given the heat we’ll make do with a shorter hike this morning and try again in the evening. A spray of grasshoppers fans out in front as I walk. They hit my jeans, occasionally one lands on my forearm and involuntarily my arm twitches wildly to fling it off.

Early morning.
Standing at the front widow the scene looks the same. The brown, dying landscape enveloped by a haze. The temperature dropped last night though. I step outside amidst the swirl of Kelpies eager to be off for the daily scree across the prairie and I am pleasantly surprised to discover this is a haze of fog not smoke. The air is noticeably cooler. The dogs and I cross the yard and melt into the pasture, in short order we come across a sheep trail and follow it. It will be a long hike this morning.

Not so many grasshoppers this morning and the legs and bellies of the dogs are wet, as are my hiking shoes. The faintest hint of moisture is in the air and it is so lovely to breathe it in. Not a rain at all but just a foggy mist. A wonderfully pleasant foggy mist that has added a teasing layer of dampness to the grass. There are little droplets of water hanging on the grass.

I wonder if this is the prairie calling for rain.

Early morning.
Another foggy haze, greatly preferred over the prior days of high temperatures and smoke. Dogs and I disappear into the pasture, the sound of lambs and ewes calling one another travels to our ears from the pasture next door where the flock grazes. It will time for a move soon. The ewes are grazing though paddocks quicker than ever and the un-grazed grass in front of them is already dry and gone yellow. Not much feed value there. The hollows and the wetland bottoms are providing the best grazing now.

The Kelpies are wet and moving with energy of the cooler air. I have my camera along and when I have my camera I look deeper and further. I look around at nothing in particular and everything at once. This is my daily scene, my back forty, what message does it have to show and share? The grasses are holding droplets of moisture and the bottom of my pant legs are soaked. There has been no rain here for a long time but this morning it is as though it had rained. This morning is more wet than the one previous; this morning is more wet than dry, and therein lies the hope. The prairie calling for rain.

Hope. Cross your fingers. Hold on.