Summer Water

Posted on by Sandell Morse

Early morning. Moments of rounded pearls. Only, I am awake. My husband, my dog, my son and my granddaughter sleep. Only, my sounds, grinding coffee, boiling water, then carrying my mug into my study. Finally, outside my sliding glass doors, grass is green. The sprinklers spray. Summer water. York, the town where I live, has ten miles of above surface summer lines, and most of those summer lines trail alongside dirt roads. Mine is one of them. When, finally, I see the York Water District truck on our lane, I know that after a long harsh winter, summer will arrive. Usually, summer water lines are opened by mid April. This year, the lines weren’t opened until May.

The Water District website tells me that three quarters of the earth’s surface is water, but ninety-eight percent of it is salt and not fit to drink. The site says that all of the water we will ever have is the water we have right now. And still, I water my lawn and my gardens. However, I no longer let the water run when I brush my teeth. I’m aware of turning off faucets and of how often I run the washing machine. All of our household water comes from a well on our property. Summer water is for the lawn and the gardens, flowers and vegetables. In York, we are fortunate. Our reservoirs are ample and deep.

My garden tells me it is spring, iris coming into bloom, peonies tightly budded. Scapes do not curl from the green shoots of my garlic– not yet. This past week temperatures have dropped to the forties and fifties. Today, it is warmer, but a cool breeze wafts from the ocean. I’m wearing a sweater. But outside, the summer water sprays. Sprays and sprays in anticipation.

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