Dust Bowl

Today's 102 degree temperature and dusty conditions reminded me of one of my favorite books, The Grapes of Wrath:


To the red country, and part of the gray country of Oklahoma, the last rains came gently, and they did not cut the scarred earth. The plows crossed and recrossed the rivulet marks. The last rains lifted the corn quickly and scattered weed colonies and grass along the sides of the road so that the gray country and dark red country began to disappear under a green cover. In the last part of May the sky grew pale and the clouds that had hung in high puffs for so long in the spring were dissipated. The sun flared down on the corn day after day until a line of brown spread along the edge of each green bayonet. The clouds appeared, then went away, and in a while they did not try any more.