The soil has been close to bone dry here in New Hampshire, with daily temperatures in the high eighties and, sometimes, high nineties. Tending the garden has taken on new meaning.

Life and death, specifically.

I normally keep a close eye on the weather and only water if it’s clearly necessary. City water is expensive, and conserving water is important to me, no matter what the price. As a gardener, I embrace the challenges of building rich, organic soil and mulching as much as possible to retain moisture. During a dry spell, like this one, I focus my efforts on my vegetable garden and perennials and herbs that I’ve planted this year. Everything else was on its own.

I’ve lost a few perennials—well-established astilbes that I wasn’t paying attention to at all—and about half of my blueberries are seriously scorched, with shriveled up berries. I have never babied my blueberries, other than tossing a little mulch their way. I suppose last week’s intense heat sapped my energy just enough that I wasn’t noticing the death and destruction underway in other parts of the yard. (Just like I managed to not notice the work of the squash vine borers…)

Today, as I leave town for a few days in Minneapolis, it’s raining in New Hampshire. It’s cooler as well. It’s a gentle, refreshing rain—the kind that is pleasant to work outside in.

Television and radio announcers are making sweeping statements about thirsty lawns and gardens welcoming the rain.

Of, course, that’s true. They may be overstating the situation, at least in my part of the state. But, I’m not fooled.

A half-inch below the soil’s surface, it’s dusty still, and bone dry.

I’m greedy for water.

Perhaps it’s because I’ll be away for a few days and will worry about my garden, even though a friend will look in on it at least once for me. Perhaps it’s because I read with sadness Ozark Homesteader’s account of devastating garden losses during her recent three-week rafting adventure through the Grand Canyon. Maybe it’s because my two-week vacation is coming up soon.

How much can a gardener lean on friends?

Does worrying do any good?

I’ve prepared as best I can, and I’ll do the same before my vacation. I moved all containers to the cooler, north side of the house, where they’ll be slower to dry out. Let them be without sun for a few days; they’ll live. Most wouldn’t survive overnight after a sunny day, without a drink. Mulch is piled high in the vegetable garden, and I’ve set up the hose with my best sprayer (not the one that sprays backwards while it sprays the garden). I watered deeply this morning, even during the light rain that was falling.

How easy other summers seem now, from this vantage point. A few hot days, followed by a few soaking thunderstorms or a day or two of steady rain. Sunny days; rainy nights.

But, wait. Didn’t we complain last year of too much rain?

Were we greedy for sun last year?