Summer Water

Water sprinklers. A summer mainstay in the city parks of my childhood. My favorite sprinkler is the long continuous  arch of water interrupted by a little metal arm  that forces the water arch to travel across the yard. This creates an instant game of London Bridges. Running under the arch and squealing, wearing a t-shirt, shorts and barefooted. Everything that is good and perfect about childhood.

My father would water the corners of the lawn with a round sprinkler that shoots tiny sprays of water  like a fountain just for me. The water spray was soft and tickly.  Leaping over this gentle spray like a frog,  giggling for no other reason than just being wet.

Husband-dear introduced me to seeper hoses. These black snake-like sprinklers by-pass the air all together and are no fun at all. They saturate the ground efficiently with little loss to evaporation. Last night husband-dear forgot to turn the backyard faucet off. This morning my flower beds were extraordinarily perky. 

When my children could still fit around my kitchen table to drink their milk, I always watered the lawn with a long, wide yellow sprinkler called a slip-n-slide. It was way more efficient than husband-dear's black and boring seeper hose. With this sprinkling system, I tackled two tasks at the same time. My hot and thirsty lawn was happy and so were my raucously hilarious three-some. In their swimsuits, goggles and sun screen, my fun and funny three hooted and hollered under the front yard oaks.

But my favorite way to water the grass is to park the car on the lawn and wash it.  Husband-dear waters the lawn at night because we're always on a water shortage alert.

Texas heated summers enrich my relationship with water. I  yearn for water during our long Texas summer droughts. And I  rejoice when a thunderstorm darkens our brazen sunny skies.