Scorched fairways. Shriveled blueberries. Shrinking farm ponds. If Maine’s summer-long dry spell continues, we can change the state nickname to “Evaporationland.”

According to the National Weather Service, last month was the third-driest August in 120 years. Meteorologists measured just a half-inch of rain in Portland, compared to almost 3 inches in a typical August. For the year, rainfall is about 19 percent below normal.

But put aside your worries. The nation’s premier forecasters know why it’s so dry. “We haven’t gotten any rain,” said a deadpan Carl Cerniglia of the National Weather Service.

Maine is usually a moist state, but the lack of rainfall is beginning to take its toll. Down on the barrens, rakers brought in about 55 million pounds of wild blueberries. That’s 15 percent less than expected, and 10 million pounds below the average of the past five years.

“The harvest is over; it’s done with,” said a glum Amr Ismail, president of the Maine Wild Blueberry Co. in Machias.

Other crops also are feeling the heat. Apples will be a little redder, crunchier and sweeter this year, according to Jim Schupp, a pomologist at the University of Maine’s Highmoor Farm in Monmouth.

Unfortunately, the fruit also will be smaller. Since growers get a premium for large apples, most will see their profits shrink.

“We need 2 inches of rain, and we need it now,” said Schupp.

The same is true in potato country, where dry conditions will cut production for many growers.

“We’ll have a good-quality, disease-free potato crop, but yields will be down,” said John Harker, director of the Division of Production Development at the Maine Department of Agriculture. “Yields of irrigated fields will be almost double that of nonirrigated fields.”

Freeman Frost, owner of Frost Farms in Hermon, said his vegetable crop will be about half as large as last year’s.

“We’ve lost all of the fall crops like turnips, cauliflower and broccoli, and the later plantings of corn are doing poorly,” said Frost, who doesn’t irrigate.

The Hermon farmer has seen more deer damage than usual. Wasps and hornets are another problem; they bruise maturing fruit to get moisture.

The thirsty insects also are plaguing loggers. They gather on newly cut wood to get the sap.

Gleason Gray, Extension agent in Penobscot County, said forage corn and late-cut hay are suffering. “We need rain now,” said Gray.

No precipitation is expected for the next six to 10 days, according to Cerniglia of the National Weather Service.

That’s an ominous development for Maine’s tinder-dry woodlands, where crews battled numerous wildfires over the Labor Day weekend. A stubborn blaze in a peat bog north of Columbia Falls was brought under control, but crews remained at the sites of four fires just west of Baxter State Park. Several other small blazes were reported.

“Most of the fires have been caused by lightning,” said David Wight, regional forest ranger in Old Town. “I think the public is supporting the governor’s proclamation .”

Even so, fire officials are taking no chances. There are 12 spotter planes circling Maine’s forests. Six helicopters are spread across the state, ready to drop water at any location in no more than 30 minutes.

This month “could be a real nightmare, just like 1947,” said Stephen Harding of the Maine Forest Service. He was referring to the infamous fire that burned more than 300,000 acres and wiped out 12 communities.

Officials are confident Maine can handle two fires of up to 2,000 acres each in different parts of the state. Any worse scenario would require support from other states and Canadian provinces that have agreed to assist Maine firefighters if called.

The U.S. Forest Service and Northeast Fire Service Compact have sent a C130 aircraft capable of dropping 3,000 gallons of water or fire retardant to Manchester, N.H. The plane will be kept ready in case of a major fire in the Northeast.

As brooks wither and farm ponds evaporate, local firefighters are losing their usual sources of water. That worries Robert Littlefield, town manager and volunteer firefighter in Guilford.

“It is terribly dry,” said Littlefield. “The river has practically no flow, and all the brooks are dry.”

Golf courses also are showing the strain. Most tees and greens are watered, but only a third of the state’s links have irrigated fairways, according to Austin Kelly, former superintendent of Bangor Municipal Golf Couse.

Throughout the state, fairways are turning brown. In the roughs, dry grass crackles like potato chips.

The drought is obvious to Robert Johnson, a well-driller from Stockton Springs.

“You get to boring and it’s just dust, right down to ledge,” said Johnson.

The weather, surprisingly, hasn’t brought Johnson much work. Hand-dug wells are going dry, he said, but many rural Mainers have switched to drilled wells in recent years.

“This is the slowest year I’ve had since 1968,” said Johnson, who blames the lack of business on a sluggish demand for new homes. Most of his work is done at construction sites; he has replaced only one dug well this year.