Dried Up

For swaths of August, I felt like this:

Lake La Mesa, June 12, 2012

All the pieces were in place: the dock, the canoe, the bowl of dirt to hold the water for the lake; and for me, the time and space set up with an easel, paints, a computer, pen, paper, a guitar.

But the underground springs that fed us were dried up.

For the lake, the connection was clear: the Rio Grande River that fed the aquifer, the mighty Rio Grande, was dry, its water held up behind a dam further upstream.  As a result, farmers instead irrigated by pumping from the ground, and so the local water table fell even further. For the first time in the 30 years the owners have had this property, the lake completely disappeared.

For me, the strangling of the hidden spring that feeds my creativity remained less obvious. 

I can tell you that the Rio Grande was flowing in July and August, and so now the lake looks like this:

Lake La Mesa, Sept. 21, 2012

Sometimes you simply have to trust in time and the ebb and flow of nature.  The drought is harsh, but somewhere underneath the desiccated mud and plants, the water still rolls fast and deep.