The Drought

Most summer mornings, Nantucket Island is enveloped in fog. Clotheslines snap with brightly colored beach towels, hung out to dry, but they will still be damp hours later when it is time for a swim.
The misty sea air is misleading as Nantucket is in a significant drought. Like the rest of the region, Nantucket has suffered two years of below-average rainfall. This island relies entirely on a sole-source aquifer for drinking water. Our population surges in the summer, along with water use. There are boats to wash, lawns to water, there are endless loads of laundry as rentals turn over each week. And there is no neighboring town to pump water in from.
With the significant drought designation from the state came mandatory water conservation measures for properties served by Wannacomet Water, the island’s municipal water company. Properties on town water must limit all non-essential outdoor water use, which means no irrigation, lawn sprinklers, and you must get permission to fill a swimming pool. Landscaping is a major industry on the island, and many homeowners are unwilling to let their lawns die. I wasn’t planning on watering my lawn anyway, probably to the chagrin of my neighbors, but now I have the excuse of being a good citizen.  
People on private wells are exempt from restrictions, even though the water supply is one and the same as those on public water. So, the alternative for those who can afford it is to dig a private well for irrigation.
Most mornings, I am up walking before the 6:30 boat pulls away from the dock, before the increasing heat, before the traffic, when the island only belongs to the early risers. In fancy waterfront neighborhoods, irrigation sprinklers send sprays of water arching across impossibly green lawns. The slanted sun shimmers in the manufactured mist.
Quaint lawn signs are starting to pop up, politely declaring: This Lawn Irrigated by Private Well. I suppose so they don’t get the complaints phoned into the water company.
People are drawn to Nantucket for our 80 miles of coastline, but there are more than 2,000 swimming pools out here. We take pride in having more than 50% of the island as open space or conservation land, but fortunes are spent shaping lawns into submission. It is a strange disconnect between the rugged, wild side of the island so many are drawn to, and the manicured worlds hiding behind tall, perfectly trimmed hedges.
On the 4^th of July, the annual water fight on Main Street goes on as planned, thanks to a donation of 8,000 gallons of water. I wonder where the water came from, what town had this kind of water to spare so it could be spilled, sacrificially, onto our cobblestones.
The next week, it rained hard for two days, 4.7 inches fell in 48 hours, more rainfall than we’d seen in six months. Listening to the torrents of rain hit my bedroom windows, I realized I’d forgotten to take my clothes off the line.