Life in a Desert Drought

I wrote this when we first moved from the city to a small desert property in New Mexico. There was a bad drought going on then. We didn't realize how bad the drought was until we moved here. That was 12 years ago. The drought continued and we learned more about how to cope with it. Then this year we got the rain we had needed for years. Of course the rain brought a different set of problems. Number one being the weeds. We have fought tumbleweeds and ragweed all summer and couldn't get it all gone. But the birds like our yard more all the time since we have added several trees, more water containers for them. The past two years we have had hummingbirds as well as several other different kinds of birds I haven't seen here before. We now have four horses instead of just two, and a different pair of dogs follow me when I am feeding and watering.
Hope you enjoy reading about our life on the desert.

Life in a Desert Drought 

Here in New Mexico we haven’t had any rain in quite some time. In fact it’s been so long we are in a severe drought. The thought of rain and some mud would be quite delightful. That is, if it didn’t last as long as this drought has. I understand that those of you in the eastern states have had way too much rain and would be more than happy to share some of your moisture with us.

To better let you understand why we want some of that wet stuff that you complain about let me go over a typical day here in the desert. This morning I got up at 6 o’clock. It was still only a cool 75 degrees. And for the moment there was no wind. What a relief. I made coffee and tried to drink a cup. No way. I was sweating by the third sip. I poured my coffee into a glass, added some ice and set it in the freezer. Maybe it would be drinkable after an hour or so.

At 7:00 o’clock I went out to feed my two horses. I mixed a handful of grain with a handful of sand clear in two buckets. Sand clear or some sort of psyllim fiber product is necessary to avoid sand colic when you live on a sand dune in the desert. Two horses whinny at me saying to hurry up, and don’t I know that they are starving. After their treat of grain and the psyllim fiber they each get a flake of grass hay. My small chestnut mare Stardust flips hers into the air and a good portion of the dry, itchy stuff lands in my hair with a bit going down the front of my tee shirt. I try to shake it out. BlackJack, my black Morgan gelding follows her lead, throws his out of the feeder and into the sand, then gives me a disgusted look as if to say ‘where’s the alfalfa?’

“Nothin’ doin’, guys,” I tell them as I pick up the hay and put it back in their feeders. “Your both over weight, it’s the middle of the summer, and I can’t find time to give you the exercise you need. We’re all on diets, me included. Now eat your hay.”

While they eat I make a half-hearted attempt to brush them. Their coats are full of dust, sand and a few burrs. Regardless of how I stand that fine dust I’m brushing off them comes right onto me and forms a layer on my face, arms, and clothes. I clean their hooves, reminding myself to make an appointment with the farrier, and to get some moisturizer for their hooves the next time I’m at the feed store. (And some for my nails.) Maybe I’ll give them a quick bath this afternoon. No shampoo that dries the natural oils in their hair, just a quick spray with the hose. That would feel good wouldn’t it, ponies.

I head back to the house where my iced coffee waits. It’s 8 o’clock and 80 degrees. I had left the ceiling fans on all night, but now I wonder if its too early to turn on the air conditioner? No it’s not, so I flip the switch. I know it will be 100 degrees by mid-afternoon, if not a bit warmer. I also plug in the mini fountain that I use for a humidifier. At least the sound of water is soothing even if it doesn’t do that much good.

I better make sure the plants are all watered. Got to remember to do it frequently in this heat wave. And a fresh bucket of water for the dogs and cats. Nikki my old Lab/Collie cross opts to stay in the house. She is to old for spending the day out in the heat. (So am I.) Oh, and don’t forget the pan of water for the wild birds. I look out and see about a dozen quail taking turns drinking from the pan, while sparrows and flycatchers line up on the fence to wait their turns. A jackrabbit sits under a clump of sagebrush, his long ears up and twisting to catch any hint of a cool breeze. I add water to another pan I have placed under a large cholla cactus. From the nest built in the middle of the cactus a curved bill thrush watches me. “There’s your water, mama bird. That way you won’t have to leave your eggs for very long.” I assume the eggs would probably fry in their shells if she left them for to long in this heat. I add a handful of bird food.

I put fly masks on the horses, which I think also helps shield their eyes from the sun. (I forgot my sunglasses.) Then spray on some fly spray before turning them out into our little field/riding arena. I watch as they plow through ankle deep sand and trot once around, causing a cloud of dust to drift over me and adhere to every part of me. Thank goodness I’ve remembered to put on my hat, but I can still feel it drifting into my ears, eyes, and nose. I sneeze and decide that any riding will have to wait until this evening, when it’s cooler, with hopes that the wind doesn’t kick up. I tried to ride yesterday and with in ten minutes BlackJack and I were both covered in muck and sweat.

Dutifully I set to work cleaning their pens. Two small horse pen doesn’t take that long to clean, but with the first fork full of manure, mother nature realized what I was doing and began blowing a hot, dry wind out of the west. The wind made sure to help by depositing another layer of filth and grime on me with the addition of some fresh horse poop.

The water buckets have as much sand in them as they do water. I dump all three buckets. One in each pen and one in the field. I buy large fifty gallon plastic barrels from the feed store and cut them in half to use for feeders and water buckets. Most people I know do the same for their horses. The barrels are easy to cut and clean, never rust, and last many a year in the heat of our summers and cold of winter before they crack. Also the horses like to play with them. They are small enough I can carry them when empty, but big enough for feeding in and the perfect size for water. Even though I clean them daily I figure the bottom third of the bucket is to let the sand sink to, so the horse isn’t getting so much. One third is for the horse to drink, and the other third is for evaporation. This morning I clean one bucket, and put the water hose in it to fill while I clean the other pen. In seconds I am dodging a hard spray of water as some horse has pulled the hose out of the bucket and aimed it at me. If I didn’t know better I would say they do it on purpose. Now I am wet and there our splatters of mud all over the front of my white tee shirt. I pick up the hose that has been left in the dirt where it is trying to make a new Grand Canyon in the sand and put it back in the bucket. The water makes me a bit cooler but my clothes stick to me and feel icky as I finish my chores.

I watch as a couple of ravens circle and come in to land on the edge of the water container in the arena. BlackJack chases them off but as soon as his back is turned they fly in again. It’s a game between horse and birds. I take a moment to water a few pots of geraniums sitting by the front door. A lizard comes with in a few feet of me knowing I’ll leave a saucer full of water for him, too.

Yes, here in the desert water truly is our most precious asset, especially during a drought. I look up hoping to see a few rain clouds building on the horizon but all I see is brilliant blue sky. I go into the house to treat myself to a well-deserved shower. (I hope there’s plenty of cold water.)