This time of year, when water’s scarce, and nerves are frazzled bare, I hear ‘em pray for moisture that’s been buildin’ up somewhere.
The dictionary claims that moisture is a small amount. So why not pray a deluge or some inches we can count.
Some years ago our irrigation ditch went dang near dry. My father didn’t say a word and never questioned why.
So, I walked upstream, discovered that our neighbor dammed the ditch. I’m sure he must have thought he’d pulled it off without a hitch.
He’d placed a board across the check, which backed the water flow. I guess he didn’t care he robbed the farmers down below.
I called the watermaster. He was fair as I could tell. I knew he would remove the board come heaven or come hell.
Well, sure enough, the watermaster pulled the extra board. The neighbor was then furious and drew a little “sword.”
The watermaster chuckled. He’d been down that road before. He said, “You better move or get a bloody nose for sure!”
The neighbor wouldn’t have it and he didn’t step aside. So he had to practice swimmin’; lost the “sword” and all his pride.
But, stealin’ water’s when you take more water than your share. I guess he hadn’t prayed for rain or didn’t even care.
Taking a neighbor’s water is like causin’ him to bleed. His crops won’t grow if there ain’t precious water that they need.
I heard one ticked-off cowboy swearin’ ‘bout his water plight. “Whiskey is for drinkin’ but our water’s why we fight!”
I understand the cowboy’s word ‘bout whiskey and their fight. He said, “You steal my water, you’re a doggone parasite!”
— Bryce Angell
