Immortality

Texas Drought

I live in a suburb in south Texas known as The Livable Forest. Normally, there are majestic pines, oaks, and elms lining every street. The lawns are usually green with plush carpets of manicured grass, landscaped with stone or timber bordered flower beds of shrubs and flowers. Well, The Livable Forest is dying. We haven't had over an inch of rain since January. The Texas Drought of 2011 has altered the once colorful landscape to a dull brown. Many trees are dead, beyond any hope of revival. I've learned something about the soil this year: when there is no grass, the soil erodes. It just blows away. My back yard, which is now grassless, sits about a foot lower than it used to, exposing tree roots and underground irrigation pipes once used in an old sprinkler system. Water mains are collapsing as the ground shifts. Last Wednesday, our water was cut off while city crews fixed busted pipes. When the hot wind blows, there is dust and dead tree limbs flying through the streets. We have mandatory water restrictions now. My schedule is Saturdays and Wednesday, but this occasional gift of water to the gasping flora is too little, too late. The snakes are coming out from the once thick forest areas and visiting yards and homes, looking for water. This makes me a bit apprehensive about drinking my coffee outside. The squirrels dig through the dry dirt around trees, looking for food. Wild fires are springing up and spreading all around us, consuming the dry brush and dead trees. Little animals scurry to escape the flames. Hundreds of homes have been lost, and even a few lives. When will it rain? Only God knows.