Drought

Mac loved gardening, and before he began construction on our house at Belmont he planted trees and flowers strategically around the property.  He truly had a green thumb, and breathed life into every cutting, seedling and tree he planted, turning our hillside into a thing of beauty.  He made several trips to the Botanic Garden on the mainland, buying anything he could coax them to sell, and well before we moved into the house his efforts were visible.  A lot of blood, sweat and tears went into Mac’s garden, he would carry a scar on his lip for the rest of his life, but he would be rewarded when his flowers blossomed and his fruit trees began to bear.

If Mac had green thumbs mine were purple, all I had to do was LOOK at a plant and it would wither and die!  I therefore left all the gardening to Mac, who lovingly watered his trees and flowers each morning and evening.  Lime, orange and tangerine trees were shooting up, plums, sugar apples and cherries would soon be in abundance and his mango trees were growing quickly. Several avocado trees had been planted, and although they would be slow to bear, they were strong and thriving under his care. There is nothing better than eating the fruits of one’s labors, and Mac’s garden would provide us with plenty.

Mac had bought every variety of hibiscus from the Botanic Garden and they were beautiful.  He planted them along the driveway, and their vibrant colors made for a lovely approach to our home.  The jasmine bushes and angel’s trumpets offered sweet aromas, as would the frangipani blossoms once the trees matured. Mac even planted roses just for me, and their fragrant buds were placed in vases throughout the house. We had bought several Venezuelan clay pots and they were filled with lovely ferns, we may not have had much in the way of furniture but we had lots and LOTS of potted plants!

The fruit trees and plants required a lot of water, so it was fortunate that we had large cisterns. The gardens needed to be watered daily and it was a time-consuming task.  Mac didn’t mind, he was happiest when he was tending to his plants, and spent endless time pruning and watering his creation.  He was rewarded by a beautiful tropical garden that gave him a great deal of pleasure.

Alas, Bequia suffered a drought about a couple of years after we moved into the house, and rain was scant for a very extended period of time.  The Pizzeria ran out of water, and Mac had to pump some from our large house tank into containers he fitted onto the back of his truck. He then ran the water with a hose into the restaurant’s small cistern so that we could remain in business.  This pumping became a weekly occurrence, with no sky juice in sight the Pizzeria ran dry time and time again.  During such a drought even the largest of tanks would get low, and the day came when Mac had to make a difficult decision.

I remember that day well.  Mac had to stop watering his gardens, we simply could not afford to use the water for his plants with such a drought.  He stood on the porch and surveyed the fruit trees and flowers he had so lovingly nurtured, and I watched as tears rolled down his face.  My heart ached for him, he had worked so hard to create  beautiful gardens and the drought was liable to destroy his efforts.

The drought DID kill most of Mac’s fruit trees, and the arrival of the dreaded mealy bug ruined his lovely hibiscus plants.  By the time it began to rain again it was too late, a couple of trees survived but the young fruit trees had withered and died.  I am sure a part of Mac died along with those trees, and I think of his tears whenever the Island starts to get dry and brown.