The two men, one her husband and the other
a neighbor, stood in the front yard, visiting as men in Oklahoma do. One
will look off into a distance, the other will look into another opposite
direction. One will slap at his trousers and the other might kick at the
ground. This is what her husband was doing.
"You think we're ever gonna get any
rain, any time soon?"
"Well, it sure is dry, I don't
know."
"How is your well doin'?"
"All right. I can't see any
diffrance."
Mary wasn't much interested in their
conversation. She knew they didn't really care if it rained or not. They
weren't farmers or ranchers and all a dry spell did for them was to keep
the grass from growing so much, meaning they didn't necessary spend much
time mowing. Some years the mowing could be such a continuous thing they
would only finish up with one section of the acre when another section
would need attention. The woman was thinking her own thoughts about it.
She could remember much talk about the dust bowl, and other dry years.
There was the year 1955 when she graduated from high school. That was
really a drought year. As she thought, she looked out over the back yard
from her kitchen window.
The raised beds she had built for the
flowers were just a jumble of burned and dried plant material which had
been bright spots of color on the lawn during the rainy season of
spring. Because the beds were raised it didn't do much good to water,
since it would just run off not soaking into the ground. "What does
it matter?" she thought. Then again the slow coming answer was
resting on her shoulders over the next few days.
"It's the principle of the
thing," she thought. "There is no reason to let the weather
just take over everything, denying the children and myself to be able to
enjoy the yard. With this in mind and with her Nephew's help she began
to fight back against the misery of the hot hard packed ground.
"There isn't anything living it
seems," she told the young man. "There isn't anything here but
dust and, well maybe, those wild roses growing at the bottom of the
hill."
"Whatever you need done, Auntie, I
can help you." the willing young man had a love for growing things
and he truly enjoyed the work.. The first thing he did was to dig wells
about a foot deep and three feet out from the base of the very young
fruit trees. "If you water these with a good soaking ever so often
they will pick up, and with these wells around them, every bit of the
water will soak down.
"I hope so," she told him.
"They sure look pretty much stressed out at this point in
time."
Within about three days the leaves on the
trees began to get a fresh green look instead of the grey wilted look
they had when they were so dry.
"You know, Nephew, I never thought
those trees could be helped so much!"
The heat was broken and she could stand
to get out to walk the grounds as she always did. At this time she
noticed the row of cedar trees they had planted as a wind break was full
of dead branches. The wild fires burning all over the nation had
prompted the television to warn people about fires and to cut growth
away from the house about ten feet, at least. She and her husband began
the job of trimming out the branches, raking the years of dead needles
from under the trees, and in turn broadcasting rye grass on the bare
ground. After only a few days with a sprinkler on the grass it began to
come up. The tiny green blades of grass made such a welcome sight. The
children, the chickens, and the adults equally enjoyed the rich new
green color of it taking them away from the fact that it was still very
dry.
The next project her nephew began was to
take out the raised bed and about a foot into the ground where they
were. The fact that there was a hole with landscape tiles around it
fixed things so no water at all could run off. It too had to soak into
the ground. Here again was a bright spot on the grounds since they took
bright flowering plants and set them into the area.
"If you want raised beds again, it
will be a simple matter just to fill this with rich soil, manure and
peat moss and with some sand." He told her.
The green rye grass was up all over and
when the rains did begin the grass was more than verdant. It almost
glowed with a rich bright green color. These were the things to make
Mary's mind go back to the talk her folks would have about how they
fought their way through the early day drought. Many people left the
dried out burned out area but her family did not leave. She knew there
wasn't any great accomplishment she had made. The confronting the
challenge was what made life possible. The children rolling in the grass
was a thrill not only to them but those who watched them. Instead of the
dry crackling brown grass her guests would have had to walk over to get
to the door they were gifted with a moment of freedom from the thought
of the dry weather. All and all she felt good about their project, she
and her nephew and husband. They could have mourned the misery of the
heat not doing anything. Just the matter of getting out, working through
the thing gave the whole family a breath of air.
For her Nephew, Mary felt a new
closeness. This was the short time he could, in helping her, have time
too, to forget about his losses, look to new horizons, and to better
green fields of his own. |