Writing Prompt 6: A walk on the edge between brown fields and green fields.

I spend much of my time in two drought-ridden states, California and New Mexico. Rains have been rare in both areas, mountains are bare of winter snow, and water rationing  is a way of life. Ten years ago, when I walked through a field in New Mexico, the green grass tops brushed my waist. Now, in that same field, small dots of green leap by, an invasion of grasshoppers, their voracious jaws chewing away at the dry, crunchy, inch-high remains of grass.