It all started when we started talking about water.
The drought has started to let up in Texas and we’ve been having rain. Even central Texas and Lone Man Creek that winds through the valley that we were overlooking was full and green with algae.
Milton said something about the power and force of water when he’d seen it running through their little canyon this spring.
It made me think of the pipelines I’ve seen going up all over Houston and the surrounding area. Actually I should say going down.
From the farm down to within a block of our house, there has been a major effort in pipeline burial. It must be thousands of acres that somebody has leased or gotten the right to bring in huge equipment, dig through fences or yards and under roads and across bridges to lay three foot diameter blue plastic pipes in trenches that work crews have dug.
Weeks ago I stopped about a few miles from the farm and asked one of the crews what was going to go through the pipelines.
“I don’t know, ma’am,” he said not so politely. It was hot.I think he didn’t think I would get back into my truck. “I just dig holes,” he said and walked off.
Since that time and then again this Saturday morning I had been thinking how much