Our epic drought continues. Forecasters predict the possiblity of a tropical storm at the end of the week. On the coastal prairies where we reside the thick clay soils are so dry that cracks from the last drought two years ago have reopened (some never did fully close up) and gotten deeper. Care is required when navigating our yard lest one sprain an ankle or worse. Small creatures tend to inhabit these spaces too: lately we're seeing bunnies, a ground dweller that largely disappeared for a number of years after the fire ants moved up from South America in the mid-80's.
Our abode is a spacious double-wide one two acres with a tremendous view down what used to be the Chisolm Trail. Imagine! Clint Eastwood may've been there! Actually, that Texas is so far gone only the marketers remember it. Now we look out toward a new tollroad and, worse, another set of high power lines across our beautiful view.
None of this is world changing: just atmosphere. I began thinking about setting the scene more succinctly.