Nightmare come true

This summer is the summer I always hope and pray we won't have. Triple digit temps for day after day, very little rain in our area and nothing over most of the state. Ponds and streams have dried up and now lakes and rivers are feeling the stress. Water levels in Fort Worth are quickly approaching 75%, which means rationing will begin soon if things don't change. And our area is better off than most of the rest of the state where they haven't had significant rainfall since Halloween last year.

Ugh. Worrying about this kind of summer has given me panic attacks during past summers. Luckily no summer that I can remember recently ever panned out to be that bad. But this one is another story. It's weird, but once you're in the middle of it, survival instincts kick in and you just have to get through it. We must press on.

So that means I'm on a new drought exercise program. I go out around 9pm every night and change out all the water dishes. I've added several new ones. We have two big bird baths, several large bowls on the ground, and 8 small bowls scattered all over the yard. I check the bird feeders, because I'm feeding them much more than I would be if we weren't going through this extreme heat. Then I water flower beds and pots if they need it. Then I start working on whichever area of the yard seems to need attention that week. Last week I deep watered the east side of the house after discovering we had several photinia bushes dying and a crepe myrtle in very bad and wilted state. This week I deep watered our holly bushes out front, because the sun is now hitting them dead on for some of the day and they are turning yellow.

I can't help but notice the reduction in bird population, not just in parking lots of businesses we frequent, but even in the neighborhood. I see birdbaths just sitting there empty and I get so angry. Why have one if you are not going to use it, especially in this weather? I also can't help but think about strays trying to survive in this, and farm animals having to get through it day after day. I know that ranchers are having to sell livestock over the whole state. Of course I think about people suffering also, people who can't afford air conditioning in their houses or cars, mothers with infants sitting on unshaded bus stops in the middle of the day, crews working out the hot sun.

But I can't save them all. So I just concentrate on our yard, our little ecosystem. Which is doing pretty well. I've seen all of our regular birds, plus our majestic woodpecker a couple of times, and a beautiful red hawk at the backyard birdbath. The hummingbirds seem to be visiting the nectar every once in awhile. I see toads soaking, lizards making their way to the water dishes, and wasps taking a quick drink. The plants are hanging in there, but only because of my watering efforts. I've had to dig up my pot of impatiens and my cannas from the ground. The elephant ears and calladium may be next. So all that will be left is the lantana (which feed the very infrequent butterflies) and the turk's cap in the ground, and the sweet potato vine, salvia and rosemary in pots.

It's physically exhausting to run errands with both boys, or to have Gabriel's swim lesson at 5 pm at the hottest part of the day. But the mental strain is taking a toll as well. Is this how people in the northeast feel with day after day of freezing temps and snow on the ground for weeks at a time? There doesn't seem to be an end in sight and that leaves us all feeling hopeless.

But we must press on.