168 Days of no Rain. Monsoon Rains are Late.
Yet, marching continues. They come almost in single file. Nostrils flared. Smelling water.
Slowly, ever so slowly they make their way. Longing for relief. Leaving homes that have dried up in search of more than a mirage.
They carry a heavy load along the sand and dust strewn rocky floor of the New Mexico desert. Lumbering ever so slowly under the sharp, hot rays of a merciless sun.
It has been a blessed Spring. A few dollars flowed our way and we finally landscaped the backyard of sand into an oasis built on a broken shoe string budget. Spray paint for the old plastic chairs and a new picnic table under an awning to replace the wooden wire spool that has served us so well.
Shade! Glorious shade! To be able to eat our sandwiches outside without Sol baking us to our bones.
A small stream of water into a small pond tinkles and waterfalls to blend with sound of our summer evening conversations.
Night begins the cricket's symphony and the distant howls of a lone coyote haunts. Centipedes scurry along the edge of the pond doing whatever it is they do.
OUR PRIVATE OASIS!
It lasted a blink'n week.
A once dead patch of desert now a shelter for all manner of desert critters lusting for a drink.
First, it was the Road Runners gobbling up the insects drawn to the water. Then came the lizards for baths and bugs. Birds drinking, bathing and pooping contentedly.
Two months ago, coming up the cracked driveway, as a herd (I don't know what you call it) of six desert tortoise. Lumbering up and squeezing under the gate to get to the backyard and begin a long awaited swim.
Little did I know that desert tortoises make friends with humans. I made the mistake of putting some old bits of left-over hot dog out for them.
I'm their new BFF. They follow me all the time while I am outside.
Ever try to have morning coffee with six lumps on the ground looking up at you begging?
One of our only treats is the first Sunday of each month. "Donut Sunday." We buy a dozen Krispy Cremes and giggle like little kids with sugar "highs." Now we have to scrape to buy a dozen and a half.
Tortoise love maple glazed Krispy Creme donuts. They even pout on the other Sundays because they feel deprived. Much like Republicans who can't retrieve the last dime from a poor man's pocket.
I have to shoo them out of the kitchen. They sneak in and terrorize Kiva, our sweetie cat, and eat her dry food. They are insatiable! If they could run for political office under the GOP logo, I believe they would.
Funny thing, though. Since they came I haven't seen one desert cockroach. Not one! Hummm...
So, I got to thinking. I blog about people I know or see who live in poverty. Sometimes fictionalizing their plight and blending in the truth. Yet, when I thought about what has happened in the last few months, I've come to realize that even critters suffer from some forms of poverty when Nature turns Republican.
Like when drought comes and food /water is scarce. Loss of the critter's homes from the dry lightning wildfires consuming the forests. But, we too, drive critters into poverty by our own greed.
We destroy their forest homes from carelessness. Camp fires left unattended that kill by people oblivious to anything but themselves. Critter breeding grounds consumed to build cheap buildings to sell more junk food and useless crap made everywhere but America.
When Mother Nature brings the critters poverty it is the way of things.
When we bring poverty to critters from our own greed, we bring disgrace upon our species.
I'm glad the critters came to share our meager oasis. It is a great blessing.