Even the weeds are dying in the pasture
The weather has been so capricious this year, especially here in the mid-Atlantic. The winter was extremely cold and more snowy than usual, followed by a cool and very rainy spring. At that time, I delighted in the lush green of the pastures and how I no longer was running through a bale a day of hay. Standing on my deck and looking over the fields, it seemed I was on the Emerald Isle–not the usual hot and steamy Maryland summer. Then the rain ended as if a faucet were closed with the snap of an impatient wrist. Whatever summer storms rolled through missed my farm entirely. We sat untouched as if we were located in a dry pocket covered with some invisible dome or force field. The grass stopped growing, then it turned brown. The horses ate down to the ground despite my efforts to rotate them to different fields. On a small farm, one runs out of acreage quickly! I started scanning the long term forecasts obsessively, hoping to see the little storm cloud image within any of the upcoming ten days. Nothing. When we did have another high percentage of rain forecast, every town around me had a deluge but us. The thing is, we can’t do anything about the weather but wait. I see the other extremes of flooding in Japan, the SouthEast and wish we could all enjoy some moderation relief from the extremes. August has come and gone and the ground is still parched, hard and dead. All we can do is wait. And pray.
The lawn looks like straw
