Chronicles Of A Struggling Creek

Hope Dissipates

Clouds began to build out of the north this afternoon.  Were they clouds of promise?  Clouds of possibility?  Or would they become clouds of disappointment?

Within half of an hour later the wind grew strong, trees begin to sway, and the thunder rolled.  There seemed to be a faint scent of rain.

Not a single drop fell here on this parcel of the prairie ocean.  Hope faded... quickly evaporating into the bone-dry air.

Now, the clouds are building once again and there is more promise... more potential.  Tomorrow looks even better.  We are so desperate for rain.

Saucering the coffee after taking supper I quickly leave to check on the carp in Rock Creek.  Not just carp I should say - all aquatic life.  Charlie and I have begun to make daily checks on the conditions of the creek and the life that exists within and along. 

Things are happening quickly on Rock Creek.  My first spot was the small falls I documented recently showing the creek has ceased to flow.  Today, I was amazed at how much the creek has regressed from this falls.  The water has receded at least six feet in the last couple of days.

Looking upstream I can see that the carp pasture Honey Hole is quickly becoming choked with leaves.  It's 45 days until autumn, but it's so hot and dry the trees are letting go of their once green, now gold, orange, and brown hands.

Going downstream, there is even more despair.  Here there is no inflow at all and this long and narrow section of the creek is even more choked.  Struggling hard to see any signs of carp, nary a swirl, back, or riffle can be found.

At risk here on this creek is more than fish.  All forms of aquatic life are in jeopardy.  Then there are the creatures that water from this creek such as deer, raccoon, possum, squirrel, and there is even beaver on this creek.  The fowl such as the heron depend on this water also.  I saw no death on the creek today and was delighted to see life still in hope of better times to come.

With today's check of the creek, my spirit lifted upon traveling back upstream to the upper shallows.  In a pool of standing water that has no inflow, there are five carp gingerly feeding in water no more than eight inches deep.  They looked to still be strong today.  But, as the bacteria and algae blooms continue to build and the oxygen declines they will lose strength. 

There is still hope.  It's not too late for the carp, perch, bass, beaver, mayfly, the occasional caddis, and all the creatures along the banks.  It's not too late, if just the rain will come.