I awoke to clapping thunder and a downpour. Perfect dozing weather. Except in our tiny Fayetteville bedroom on the air mattress, it seemed the house would be whisked off to Oz. I was just being introduced to this home – its storm sounds new. The rain reverberated on the tin roof sounding like golf ball-sized hail. Nearby flashes of lightning illuminated the interior – partially painted, barely furnished. Lucy and Annabelle burrowed underneath the quilt thinking the end was near. It was peaceful.
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| Dallas rain from upstairs porch |
The next morning back in Dallas, thunder and a much needed rainstorm drenched the already parched city. The weathermen were animated. Everyone breathed more easily.
One week later I spent my first evening in Piggott amidst a typical Northeast Arkansas tornado watch. The blackened skies immediately put me at ease, made me feel at home. With all my recent traveling, I was becoming a storm chaser. Or a storm magnet?
Growing up on a farm, there were many thirsty summers when no one dared look at Daddy or accidentally smile about anything, followed by days of rising flood waters. Mother Nature has a wicked sense of humor. We grew up studying the clouds and the sky, sniffing out wind direction and predicting rain by our achy bones. We did August rain dances, careful not to twist an ankle in the bone dry cracks splitting the front yard open. On Sunday mornings during the every-eye-closed-and-every-head-bowed part of Just As I Am, every farmer’s wife and child prayed for rain. The farmers did their praying out in the fields scouting for rain on the steamy horizon.
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| Tate Farm (aka florida farm) |
Spending the day out on our farm Saturday, I learned about new irrigation techniques and pumps, laser leveling to save water and increase yield, and the inner workings of center pivots. I can spot pigweed from the interstate. After a day of studying the slope of each field, I realized for the first time Mississippi County isn’t pancake flat. It started looking downright hilly by the end of the day as I noticed low spots around Little River and the built up banks along Kochtitzki. Even the topography has changed since Hernando De Soto explored the Mississippi River Valley. I wonder what Thomas Tate thinks about the new fangled farm technology? Tractors drive themselves now…
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| electric pump Tate Farm |
Leveled irrigated fields would certainly allow the farmer to sleep a bit easier during the long hot summer, if farmers slept. But they don’t.
When I water my herbs and flowers in Dallas during a string of 100 degree days, I can keep them alive. Barely. But if it rains, a steady slow soaking, they smile and grow. Nothing replaces the real thing when the heavens open and the rain falls.
talya
Musical Pairing:
“Rain is a Good Thing”, Luke Bryan
The rain, rain, rain came down, down, down
In rushing, rising riv’lets,
’til the river crept out of it’s bed
And crept right into Piglet’s! (Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day)
In rushing, rising riv’lets,
’til the river crept out of it’s bed
And crept right into Piglet’s! (Winnie the Pooh and the Blustery Day)
While I didn’t grow up on a farm, as you did T, I still remember the only part of the nightly news my granddaddy paid any attention to was the weather segment! Great memories! (that and Paul Harvey on the radio when he came in from the field for lunch! loved that!)
Yes life revolved around the weather:))
Happy to come home to a great blog after a long day away from home.
Central AR also received a much-needed rain around midnight Mon.-Tues. I stayed up writing and loving the sounds of thunder and the flashes of lightning. The storm wasn’t as severe as the time it knocked pieces of blue glass off the window frames, but nearly. The wheelbarrow I’d used to hold flowerbed detritis was three-quarters full the next morning. Weather is one of those few things still out of man’s control. That is a good thing, right? pl
It is a good thing to occasionally be reminded Who’s in charge:)
Oh how we could use some of this much needed rain on our crops right now. I don’t think I’ve ever seen my husband this tired. The grit follows him in every night. Every pump is pumping and the pivots have already been moved more times this year than several years combined. You are so right….nothing replaces the real thing when the heavens open and the rain falls. Timmie Lynn
I hope this year isn’t a repeat of 1980. But we’ve already had several days of 106+. ugh.