A brief, but welcome, break in the weather

It's not just the absence of rain that worries rural farmers and town gardeners alike. It's the abrupt way Southeast Missouri stopped having wet days this year.

And then there's the heat -- the oppressive warmth of a small, windowless kitchen in which an always full tea kettle is at full boil, pouring its steam vapors into the thick air that can be sliced with a butcher knife.

So it's summer in Southeast Missouri. Hot, humid days are right on schedule.

But we were spoiled in the spring, when fickle weather is the rule and storms come and go as quickly as flashes of lightning. This spring we endured a few storms, but mostly we enjoyed the cool temperatures and daily showers that gave us a taste of the English countryside.

Right through the middle of June, spring lived up to its calendar markers. More than 20 inches of rain fell during April, May and June, and the trees and bushes and shrubs and flowers flourished in response.

The first full month of summer, however, was another story. When July turned hot, it stayed hot. And mostly dry. Farmers and gardeners who had patiently waited for the soil to dry out enough to plant found themselves praying for rain.

Even those who pray regularly and earnestly began to wonder if their intercessions were going awry. As spring began, the prayers for gentle, refreshing rains were answered with daily showers that flooded vast areas. When our prayers turned to requests for moderation, the answer was a tight turn of the spigot, which seems to be stuck in the off position.

But while weather watchers in some areas feel cursed by either too much rain or none at all, their neighbors -- literally a few lawns or fields away -- experience just the opposite. Too dry on your side of town? The other side is drenched in a downpour. As a result, a drive through the countryside reveals a display of stunted crops and lush, green fields -- in the same view.

Local officials say Southeast Missouri isn't having a drought. But a national map puts us squarely in a pre-drought band that wiggles across the nation.

A weather system this week brought a welcome bit of relief: Cooler temperatures and a drastic drop in humidity. The dry air has perked us up a bit and has made outdoor activities bearable again.

But no rain -- unless you are on the other side of town or in the next county. Over there, they got drenching showers. A few counties away, there were flash-flood warnings.

Weather. You can talk -- and write editorials -- about it all you want. But you can't do anything about it.

But what, exactly, would we do for conversation without it?