Rough Summer
It's been a rough summer.
A shotgun blast of dry and hot. The days bunched together like a tight cluster of hot lead pellets tearing holes in everyones hopes.
I lifted a stiff Phoebe out of its nest where it lay dead on top of six eggs. Wind so hot and strong and unrelenting it can kill you while you sleep. The surviving Phoebe cried all summer for a new mate.
Wheat harvest started and finished earlier than anyone ever remembered. Everyone watching the horizon for fire.
The barn so hot that the nests inside boil over, littering the floor with dead baby swallows.
Days bathed in a thick golden haze from faraway wildfires. The setting sun whirls pink as it wades into someones life gone up in smoke.
Maret and I drag the rain around the homestead. With long green hoses we darn the yard together tenuously, trying to keep it alive.
A Meadowlark drowns trying to get a drink in the stock tank. Its dissolving body a life raft for Carrion beetles. The only water for miles turned out to be deadly. Too much of a good thing.
The gravel road, dry and washboarded, pulverized by every pickup that goes by. Each one raises a bone dust fog that snakes off over the fields and settles quietly.
It rained two days ago, finally. Not much; only four tenths. But you could almost hear everyone exhale just a little bit, which is good because I think we were getting accustomed to the suffering.
Friday, September 14, 2012 at 12:21PM
Reader Comments (3)
Worth the wait Ned. Really good.
Ned , Thanks for the new post. Hope the season of fall brings some changes of fortune.
Man, oh man, I worried about you guys out there every day. So many many fires. Plus that one up in the sky. I hope you were able to get some good yields. Maybe you'll be able to put your feet up right about the first frost. It was impossible in town to keep our lawns and trees alive. Can only let the hose run so long. Even our spruce and jumper trees wilted. The best of harvest to you. Hope Rachel gave you my message that I was hungering for a post! Fey