Empty Tanks But Unabated Thanks

The sun has come out and of course it alters everyone’s perspective. The world is sparkling, freshly washed; it speaks of new beginnings. Now if we could only figure out why we have no water. Ironic, isn’t it?

Days of downpour, and I turned the tap on Friday morning and nothing came out. Fortunately, Monte was able to drive over the infamous Gaviota Creek crossing later that same morning and return to the ranch. (He had been out working in the real world during the storms. Or is this the real world? I forget.)

But anyway, as often happens, something we had come to expect and rely upon simply failed to materialize. We trekked up the hill to the tanks through knee-high weeds and mud pot-holed with cow tracks, some of them pooled with manure soup. Monte climbed a ladder to the top of each tank, lifted the lid, and looked inside. Empty. Then we mucked around for an hour or two looking for evidence of a significant burst, or even a leak, not just by the tanks but all along the water lines. It’s tough when the ground is already so wet, but we didn’t see anything unusual. Now our quest is to determine how it came to pass that both storage tanks, filled with recently and regularly pumped water from a very adequate well, are drained.

The inconvenience is character building, I suppose. It’s happened before, giving rise to new awareness of all we take for granted and a bit of thought to the staggering deprivations others routinely endure. Which is not to deny that it’s a pain in the butt, and whatever is going on, it will no doubt be expensive to repair. Still, the world has become small enough for me to maintain perspective on this little problem of ours. Take Haiti, for example. Even petty kvetching seems inappropriate right now.

And you will have to come back another time for the conclusion of this particular tale. Closer inspection is currently taking place and various experiments are in progress involving pumping and turning different valves on or off. Meanwhile, we have removed the canvas window coverings I mentioned in my previous post, and the house feels light and airy again; the sky is sigh-blue. When I step outside, I am greeted by the rain-revived scents of rosemary, lavender, sage, and chaparral, and those bare root roses are already sprouting glossy little red-leafed shoots.