Winds of Change
Friday, May 25, 2012 at 09:16PM 
-e.e. cummings
“Wind,” Jack tells me, “is what we’re all in for more of in this world of global warming.” That’s what the scientists say anyway. But it’s not just in the distant realms of the lab or the data that wind makes its appearance in the world; it has indeed arrived in full force on the farm.
At first glance, wind doesn’t seem so bad. My hair flapping around, a bit of dust, no more. Jack tells me, “No. The crops hate it because it takes away all their moisture. Look at that -” I glance toward the fields facing west and see a massive 1500 gallon water tank atop a flatbed trailer, the steady hum of a generator in the distance. “It’s unprecedented to have to provide extra moisture to our melons in May, but here we are.”
Normally the crew simply places black plastic over the seedlings after a good rain and let the damp soil and sun do their work. However due to the speedy air passing just over these leaves and leaving an arid climate in its place, the moisture is simply eviscerated, the plants left parched and dry. Now the water tank leads the clear liquid through drip tape - a means of getting it to the thirsty baby honeydews.
The trouble with wind makes sense after I digest this thief-like process. For what does one think of after all, when one thinks of a desert? I imagine a Georgia O’Keefe painting; piercing sky and sun, bleached cow skulls, and of course, the wind: whipping up fine particles that sting the eyes and nestle into any corner, any crevice.
This is a dramatic picture of course, but it’s what is occurring on a micro level to the baby melon patches. These plants are straining to establish their roots when young - a proverbial nursing child sucking at anything to get milk. When the bully wind blows, this chance is gone as it steals away water and thus, life. Unless of course Mother Farmer comes with the 1500 gallon water tank. Which Jack has for the time being. But the question for summer 2012 is, how often he will have to use it? And if the tank wasn’t accessible, would the melons slowly slowly slowly become more like the desert cow skulls, while soil turned into sand? It is a sobering thought to ponder as more hypothetical stories such as this become realities in pockets of places that we know and love.
I hope now to more appreciate the watermelons that arrive in my box this time around, having a fuller understanding of what it takes to bring them to fruition, bring their sweetness to my mouth.
-Katie





