About its Water
As I write up my interview notes on this day in August, Tuscany and I have smiled at one another, wryly. Rain was forecast for today. But none came. Rumour had it that it came in a neighbouring town. But others who live there denied it. I promise you: the clouds were dark this morning, but they just blew away. Blown onward away by the gentle breezes – zephyrs, loving ones – that move through the citrus and olive trees in this garden where I am.
In December there was rain (says Tuscany). There was 231 millimetres, he says, looking it up on his computer. Only 63 in January; in February only 38.5mm. Very low. March managed 75 – almost okay; April, very low (he doesn’t even give me the statistic). May, 18 mm; June, practically nothing. July: one day’s worth (3.4 mm); and in this month, August – after one week – Nothing.
Should we water the flowers or not? Do we just watch our gardens die? Covid was bad in Italy… Do we now stop washing our hands? What do we do?
Tuscany tells me about his rivers. There is a waterway near where we are (I believe him, I am trusting) called the Torrente. It’s just a creek, he says. (I hear “torrent” in English, but he tells me it’s just a creek.) It runs alongside the road to Florence from here. There is also a river called the Ombrone, also nearby. When the Ombrone reaches 7 metres depth, it is at flood level. But now it is 0.5 of a metre in depth. Negligible.
Drinking water is achieved from under the ground. Florence and Montalbano both get their water this way. It’s very rich in calcium.
In August, when the tourists come (and Tuscany wants the tourists to come) – many plastic bottles accrue. The water in the plastic bottles meets the needs of travellers who come. The mayor of the place where I am is very responsible about the environment. You can tell from the assortment of boxes and bags that are outside people’s homes as well as the posters up in the town square. He encourages the use of reusable containers at water fountains. And he hopes that the hotels won’t use chemical-based formulae in their mosquito repellents. The hotels supply, but don’t apply, electrically charged anti-mosquito devices. They encourage you away from the air conditioning towards a ‘through-draft’ open window policy at night. Today as I finish this piece I am told that non-chemical mosquito repellents are about to be distributed in the area.
Tuscany, in fact, laughs as he sees me coming in through the door after a walk. We really got drenched today, didn’t we? (He says.)
I meet a man whose business is packaging. He attracts my attention by commenting on my choice of cappuccino over espresso after my lunch. I apologise for being a stupid Englishwoman. His Polish wife comes to my defence in good English. They are very kind. When I ask the packaging man whether Italy recycles everything, he thinks for a beat and uses the one phrase in English he seems to know without help: “Work in progress” . The Netherlands, it seems, helps Italy out with its recycling today. Mainland Europe working together with some success? Italy is ‘working on’ having its own facilities.
Yes, we were expecting rain today in beautiful Tuscany. But it didn’t come. The citrus trees, olive trees, the vines – what’s to be done? Do the people let them die? Or do they hope for something different, which the land can cope with? I watch the patron of the restaurant employ a used wine bucket to water his plants. So (lucky me) as I sip a glass of the delicious local vino and dip my bread into the ecologically friendly olive oil, I hope something good happens soon.