Pines turned pale.
Some went brown.
Mine did.
I did not care.
Grass returns.
Water does not.
Bellweather Pines stayed green.
Not green in the ordinary sense.
Golf-course green.
The kind of green that almost looks artificial when everything around it is drying out.
Their entrance fountain still ran.
Sprinklers still covered medians.
Young trees looked freshly watered.
People noticed.
Delphine had an explanation.
At meetings, in newsletters, in emails, she talked about the association’s “private community water reserve.”
The phrase appeared everywhere.
Private community water reserve.
She used it
