Water

A few days ago, I read an entry by Aimee in "New to Farm Life" which mentioned the drought being experienced by the people of Oaxaca, Mexico, where her husband Homero was visiting. This came to my mind as I was carrying bucket after bucket of water to my thirsty goats, who seemed to be sucking them up as quickly as our little bucket brigade could carry them.

Water.  How could we survive without it?

Visionary Sci-Fi writers have produced countless futuristic books and movies based upon just that subject; consider "Dune", the most well known of the bunch. A frightening concept for those of us that have enough water; a harsh reality for those of us that don't. 

Since I've always lived here in Pennsylvania, my personal experiences with water are more akin to a love affair than a horror story; I've enjoyed some of my finest moments whitewater kayaking, mucking around in swamps, or "stream hiking" (an activity I used to do in my teens).  I mastered the art of silent swimming as a kid, sneaking up on turtles and frogs without making a ripple or a sound in sweet little ponds; I've fallen asleep in canoes, on rafts, in inner tubes; I became a rather good fly-fisherwoman (I think this skill is genetic), and have always enjoyed painting and drawing watery places.  One of my best friends taught me whitewater skills about a decade ago, and with his help I've done up to class 4 rapids.  I still visit a boulder that bears a commemorative plaque for him, despite its mid-rapid location. Where would I be without water?  It's in my blood, both literally and figuratively.

This morning, following a pre-school visit to the farm, I stopped at the hardware store to pick up a couple of hoses and a nozzle.  My plan today (after teaching), is to construct a more efficient way of getting water to the goats, who love water too (though they don't like rain!  Go figure!), especially in the current heat wave.  We're blessed to have a deep well, and an abundance of this priceless natural resource; we should be grateful for it.  My heart goes out to Oaxaca. And thirsty creatures, everywhere.

I can't end this entry without a mention of the horror I feel every time I think about the massive BP oil spill in the Gulf.  What terrible stewards we are.  I'm so ashamed, and so sorry for the state of the earth right now.  In my own individual way, I'm doing everything I can to be a good partner to the earth; if only big business would too...