Drought in North Carolina

It was already very dry here in central North Carolina when I left for Bulgaria at the beginning of August, leaving the air conditioner off. When I got home in mid-August, it was so hot in my house that the floor tiles in the bathroom burned my feet. The soap was melted. The dental floss was melted. The battery in my laptop computer, which had been in a dark place, was fried. My mattress was hot all the way through.

There was the longest run of days over 90 degrees ever recorded in August. We are in what is for this area, I believe, a historically unprecedented drought.

There was one, just one, rain in September. There is no rain forecast for October and the rest of the winter is supposed to be dry. The farmers' crops have died in the fields. The dogwoods are dying. Everything is dying. The grass is crunchy underfoot.

Farmers are getting rid of their flocks - there is no grass to feed them. There is a panic over hay - it has to be brought in from the North (that's where my donkey's hay for the winter came from).

I have always had a dread of dry places. I've never wanted to visit the Southwest, or Israel, or any other place which is usually dry. I abhor yellow, sere landscapes. Now I live in one. Maybe it's time to move. But where?

I wake up every morning thinking, "it didn't rain again." It starts my day off in a condition of despair. Will it never rain again?

The news people have long since tired of talking about the drought, it's not news any more. But every day that goes by, the story is actually bigger and bigger. Like, well, the melting polar ice caps. The thawing tundra. That boring global warming they have also tired of.

So who was hoping if we didn't talk about it, global warming would go away?

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