I’d like to say that Southeastern Colorado was ‘in the clover,’ but we are having no such luck. The drought continues and the weather god is inconsistent. Worse than inconsistent – he’s a tease. Every day the clouds darken, and the rain eases down the Sangres. Close and closer. Everyone holds his breath
until we’re blue in the face. Some pray. Others consider stripping down to their skivvies and running down Main Street. Occasionally, it does rain! Yippee!
We have only two choices: either we have a flash flood or a kiss-and-a-promise: five minutes later, the rain ceases. Someone turns off the tap. That is not nice. To tease us while you, the rain god, snicker.
The creeks are a mere trickle; the irrigation ditches are dry; and the cows are grazing fields that are typically saved for cutting and winter fodder. The ranchers will be buying hay this year – and for you, the price of beef will go up. It’s time for you to pull up that recipe for black bean and mushroom hamburgers.
Locals know Centennial Ranch south on Hwy 69. We have 180 acres on Promontory Divide – right on the Huerfano County line. The view is to die for. On a clear day (you can start humming now) you can see all the way to the Chalk Cliffs between Salida and Buena Vista. My husband and I were there yesterday, and I took this photo.
Between the pending rain and haze from California fires, the visibility was poor. I could have Photo-shopped the picture to make the landscape greener, but leaving it faded as-is, speaks volumes. The pond is dry. Both windmills are disconnected, but the blades turn in the breeze. I hum a C-Major scale to determine the note. It is C above middle-C. The note matches my breath. In – a C; Out – a C. The music is restful / hypnotic.
Thinking of the inconsistent weather god, I flash to a cascading syllable poem that I wrote for Shavano Poets this past week.
I watch our Border Collie sleeping sound. / His eyelids flicker as he runs through / a dreamscape of lush wet Switchgrass. / Last night’s downpour has heightened / the rabbit’s scent. Nearing / his prey, Oogie prays / to his godhead. / “Speed me on. / Help me. / Please!” / The / rabbit / also prays. / She prays for luck. / Is the rabbit’s god / listening, or are the dog / and the rabbit praying / to the self-same deaf deity / whose head in the clouds is masking life / and strife here in the Garden of Eden?