Welcome to the Desert
Without dust:
With dust:
We've been having a lot of dust storms lately. Usually we might only get one or two every summer, but so far this year we've been averaging one a week.
We have three big lakes on our place and all of them have been dry now for over two years because of the drought. The winds blow up huge waves of dust across the lakes, hurtle them along the dirt roads, and throw them into the sky.
As soon as someone notices the cloud of dust thundering across the paddock, a cry like hot potatoes, is thrown around the house, "Dust!" A panic ensures. Everyone--whether talking to someone important on the phone, gluing together miniature sets, or catching falling pots off the stove--abandons their current occupation and runs to shut every door and window.
Even then the fine dust seems to find it's way into every crease and crevice. It covers the desks, so that everytime you touch it or pick up a loose piece of paper you find your hands covered in grit. The worse has to be if you get caught with your undried washing on the line. I once had three brand new white singlets on the line when a dust storm hit. I still don't think I've got all the red out of them yet. It's imbedded in the lace trim like dye.
It's like living in a bull ring. The wind rages and stomps and the dust billows. We had one particular storm a few weeks ago that was so thick we couldn't see our shed, 50 metres away. My Dad was down at the shearing shed, an open structure, and he says he couldn't even see out the door.
We sent photos of one recent dust storm to a pastor up north who we know has been praying we would get rain. His reply made us laugh, "I saw the title of the photos and rejoiced. I should have read the letter first. Maybe I just prayed for storms. Will have to be more specific and ask for rianstorms. How prone to floods are you?"
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home