It’s not that the water is gone. It’s that it all got used.
The flowers grew tall and bright with thick, sturdy stalks. They drank and drank. They jeweled their leaves in excess water. They luxuriated in decorative waterfalls.
And now the water has evaporated and the ground is bare. It’s not that the water is gone. It still exists. It still passes through this place from time to time, offering a sip. But it all got used on one singular garden. And then it left.