There’s a spring opposite my house here in South West France. The Romans built the walls and the aqueduct a couple of thousand years ago. The water in the spring is the clearest water I’ve ever seen. I’ve been told that scientists have traced the origin of the water to the mountains in the middle of France, and it takes about three weeks, flowing underground, to reach here.
When I arrived here eight months ago the spring water poured powerfully over the little wall and into the aqueduct beyond. This summer, with France experiencing a historic drought, the water level in the spring has fallen and fallen. You can see how far away it is from tumbling over into the aqueduct now.
The locals tell me they’ve never seen it this low in their lifetime, which is pretty troubling. But it’ll be restored I think. “Normal” rainfall isn’t expected until October or November so I wonder if the water will be flowing vigorously again by the anniversary of my moving here.
Nature is full of cycles and seasons and we’re told that climate change isn’t stopping that. It’s just making the swings more extreme.
As they say around here, “On vera” (we’ll see)
Heroes Not Zombies 
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