We arrived at Medina Lake fresh from our Corpus Christi excursion.
We thought there would be... you know... a lake.
But there wasn't.
It was dry.
|A dock for the former lake.|
We'd read about dryness in Texas. We'd read about perpetual drought. We'd read about the shortage of fresh water in America and the usage of natural water sources from unnatural irrigation and the support of an unwieldy population - but this was the first time we'd witnessed it first hand.
Lots of lessons lately about the human affect on the environment.
But all was not lost.
We were here at Medina Lake with friends: a family we'd met a few months earlier over brunch in Tennessee.
Christy, Steve, Hannah, and Dylan were parked right next door and we were there for maybe two weeks!
Rarely have we met a family along with whom we get along so well.
We talked endlessly with Steve and Christy while Hannah and our kids bonded over tire swings and DVDs, cookies and flashlight tag. It felt like our own little home neighborhood right here in The Lone Star State. Our neighborhood of the empty lake. Which seems like a sad metaphor, so just forget that. Think on the day before Christmas and Michael bonding with a fellow musician (you can get Steve's fabulous piano music here) and me with an unschooling mom I originally met online, and the kids running wildly between campsites and playing ukelele by the roadside.
Because that's what it was like: the opposite of empty.
|Dock remains: Medina Lake|