That is the only moisture I have been getting of late. Dew is good. The plants even look slightly fuller and a bit refreshed covered in a misty layer of morning dew. It could be a mirage. It takes a while for my eyes to reach optimum focus when I first wake up.
Dew or not it is getting scary dry. A saving grace for the Tall Flower Meadow is that it sits in a natural seep. This mini-valley is sheltered from the wind and a good deal of sun. It is a naturally moist micro-climate that even seems to collect more dew than more exposed locations. There is a limit though and it fast approaches.
Drought is not the only thing on my mind. At five thirty this morning I was woken by kitty caterwauling. Button was defending his territory from another feline type animal. I heard two voices. I have to hope it was a cat cat not a bobcat.
As my eyes focused this morning I gazed over at my neighbor's scalped hillside of grass. I am getting the distinct impression that the number of pukus in the lawn are growing every night. What kind varmint is ripping up his lawn? That has got to be one mighty big skunk of a small pack of piglets. I bet his lawn scalper dude is going to be totally annoyed next time he comes back.
Dew is all I get and the extended diagnosis is only offering a meager chance of rain on Friday, then right back to cool and clear. They are perfect, beautiful, fall days without a drop of water, just the kind you like after a cold front full of water moves through.
The blue asters will have to subsist on dew in the meantime.
I will marvel at the last hurrah of the Tall Flower Meadow. Through weeks of dry and threats of stomping cows, tree trimming barbarians, marauding chickens and a mysterious hole digger, it has remained standing and bloomed profusely.
Three and a half more weeks, then I will be able to exhale. Sort of. Then the tree trimmers will be back.