One Fine Day And Then Another

The other day after six weeks with no rain at all we finally had a downpour here in Tikokino. Well two inches of the wet stuff anyway. The next day you could see the fields practically green up before your eyes. But since then there has been nothing more but annoying beautiful mellow fine Autumn day after beautiful mellow fine Autumn day. Most farmers try to feed their animals with precious winter hay stores but there are others who leave their animals on dirt with nothing but mouldy black pea straw to eat.

This paddock has no shelter belts to shade the cattle from the sun as they pick their way through their own manure.

It's not unusual to see more and more empty paddocks as farmers downsize their stock numbers to try and cope with the lack of feed. Even areas that usually have a more constant rainfall are beginning to feel the effects of the drought. Smedley Road runs up towards the Ruahine Ranges and is renown for its rolling green hills covered with old Totara trees. It's now a paradise for artists with a surfeit of yellow ochre paint.

An old Totara coping with the driest summer in years.

As nights draw in and temperatures drop overnight it's becoming too late for the countryside to recover before the winter arrives. Even if rain arrived tomorrow the cooler days will mean the soil temperature drops to a level where grass practically hibernates. Great news for anyone who hates mowing lawns but not so great for those trying to carry sheep and other stock through the winter months.

The view from just before Smedley Station looking towards the Ruahine Ranges.

The flow on effect of a drought also impacts on small country towns as farmers have less money to spend on anything but the bare necessities.Stressful events such as a drought, often coupled with banks applying pressure to repay loans, has caused many suicides amongst the rural community in the past and unless people offer a helping hand it will happen again.

As I cart water around the animals by hand (usually because my own water supply is off due to repairs) I realize how precious a commodity the liquid stuff actually is. I lay hose ends in empty buckets which collect every last drop that leaks out before it's carried to water struggling plants. Nothing is wasted.

So it is with a sense of deep irony that I write of my excitement on receiving an unexpected gift yesterday. It is attached to a plank of wood threaded through a fence where Stig the Goat headbutts it in frustration. Each time I go past I touch it in awe and gaze at it longingly waiting for the day I can finally use it. It is a rain gauge.