Three Kinds of Drought
As I walk along the single lane road, yellow grass lining
the banks each side, with a few hardy weeds, and trees still green, I notice
the farmer ploughing the field. I know how dry the field is as the plough turns
over 12” at a time, and the shade of colour is almost unchanged. A cloud
surrounds the plough as its moving, even the seagulls are very few since the
worms have dug deep to escape the dry soil. The farmer will struggle to sow
seeds this year, without the rainfall to encourage the seeds to grow. But as
every year, the farmer must keep to a schedule for the crops to be ready for
harvesting.
Martyn
There is a drought in this world, causing death and
destruction, fires rage, fields lay bare. Country against country, brother
against brother. Despair fuelled wars rage across the globe. Children starving,
dying from lack of medicine, War heroes reduced to dark solemn figures in
doorways as the world passes them, seen but ignored.
There is a drought in this world, resources run thin, energy
costs skyrocket, shop doors close, and food banks lay bare, the elite in their
ivory towers, immune to the daily struggles of the common man, but aware of the
fate to befall him, all the while trying to make profit from the self-destructive
nature of progress.
There is a drought in this world, the rivers of compassion
have run dry, the clouds no longer hold, but are swollen with the selfishness
of man, raining self-destruction upon him. Blind eyes do not soak in the state
of the world that surrounds him.
There is a drought in the world,
And I pray for the rain.
Russell
Walking through the wooded area where I walked the dog every
day always seemed to be damp and a bit eerie. The wood was only a small area,
but it was dark and thick with many large trees and shrubs. Covering the whole
balcony of the area, then open into the large sunshine as it was late summer,
walk past fields. I notice how dry it looks from the damp forest the openness
of the field and the dry winds, not a lot of rain but I thought just like last
year it would be full of life green fields and many birds.
The dog takes a drink from a rut at the edge of the field,
but he didn’t seem to want to stop, why I thought he must be getting thirsty.
But then I realised the green fields were brown and a little green, then as we
went further from the wood the earth, big cracks in the ground were under my
feet. The food that was being grown in the fields had not flourished properly
this was and seemed like a drought. What a difference from the wooded area nice
and damp and wet, in the open dry and dusty and crops that were not surviving.
Simon
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