Lemons in August

Falling Lemons

August is the month from hell.  Now the 10th of the month, 2011, our brains have dried to raisins down here in Texas. We are in the worst one-year drought ever. August brings unbearable heat, but this summer has shriveled even the strongest native plant. Trees are dying. The Echinechia folded their pink-flowered heads weeks ago along with the Mexican Marigold, Blue Sage and what have you.  Zinnias gasped in June.

There is not enough water to keep much alive in 104-106 degree heat.  The hose is dripping on the roots of the trees to keep them alive.  I fill the bird baths each morning for the suffering birds, with their beaks a gap. I read that this is how birds sweat .. through their beaks … like dogs.  I saw crows this morning with their beaks wide open. As I sit out in the pines of rural Bastrop, the pine needles remind me of a tinderbox. We are all hibernating in the air conditioning (and pray for the unfortunate souls that do not have cooling).

Lemons look luscious.  Their visual beauty and smell captures my mind more now than any summer in memory.  Maybe it was all the lemon trees in Italy that I swooned over in May.  I don’t know.  I have never craved the refreshing quench of lemonade as I do now.

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