We’ve had a wet season in Southern California, and while the weather warmed up and turned dry again yesterday, after the previous day’s cold drizzle, we still aren’t sure if the rainy season is over, or whether this will turn out to be the third wettest, second wettest or the wettest year on record. The season ends June 30, and we have less than an inch of rainfall to go to beat the record, by most accounts.
All this talk of record-breaking weather makes me think about Hatfield the Rainmaker. My grandmother, born in 1898 on a ranch in Potrero, used to tell us about Hatfield, who was hired to break a drought in 1912, then was refused payment when he couldn’t prove that he caused the rain. He sued. I wonder, if he’d been able to prove he caused it, whether he would’ve been sued for the flood damage. But in 1938 a judge finally ruled the rain an act of God.
Then there was the 1956 film, The Rainmaker, with Burt Lancaster as a charismatic vagabond who didn’t seem able to make it rain until nearly everyone had given up on him as a cheat. Katharine Hepburn played the spinster rancher’s daughter who fell for him.
Rainfall is serious business in Southern California, mainly because we get so little of it. We go from a few years of relative drought to a year of deluge. If too much of it doesn’t cause floods or overgrowth of underbrush, drought can lead to its own forms of disaster, with wildfires, which wreaked havoc in my home county in fall of 2003 and destroyed landscape that was home to some of my fondest memories.
Rainmakers are still around, only these days they’re considered more scientific. Modern Scientists Seed Clouds to Make Rain and, elsewhere in the world, Thailand’s royal rainmaking made news just today, as the Thai king aimed high over drought.
Whether it’s man made or nature made, rain rarely seems to return gradually after a drought. In fact there seems to be little about weather that’s gradual. It goes from monotonous to spectacular. We rarely notice anything in between. And while California has enjoyed a much wetter than usual year, the U. S. Drought Monitor shows a dry year in progress for some other parts of the country. So perhaps those of us still above flood level should relax and appreciate the wet season. I know I’m loving the rain’s effect on our local hillsides, where the usually dusty, drab chaparral has grown dense and green, broken only by emerald patches of grass, splashes of wildflowers and the deep shadows of California live oaks.
Here in the northeast of PA we’ve had a lot of rain recently. There was a 3 inch rainfall last week, which was less than the 6.5 we got one day last fall, with above average snowfall in between. But two years ago the talk was all about the drought the state was experiencing. Since we depend on a well, I’m happier with the rain than the drought, but just average for a change would be better still.
The good news is that the landscape is returning to pre-fire conditions. I escaped to the Mission Trails park last weekend to find a new trail up the San Diego River from the dam with fancy full-color signage explaining about the life cycles of the various habitats. Indeed, the wildflowers were abundant, if beginning to wane. I think I heard all the trails in Cuyamaca park are open now, too. True, it can be sad to see black limbs of dead trees railing against the sky, but if you set your sights lower toward the ground, most evidence of the fires has vanished.
The bad news is that the rains revealed defects in the house I bought in 2001. During the drought years, it didn’t matter that the stucco has almost invisible cracks and the house sports a deteriorated “weep screen”, allowing rain to flood the foundation, seep up the walls, soak the carpet. Excuse me, I need a weep screen myself! [insert cryie] (won’t work automatically) :’(
The sprinklers came on in our development yesterday, so I suspect the rainy season is pretty much over for this year. Whether it will end the drought seems to be debatable.
We are even starting to see some rain up here in Oregon, though I missed some of it being out of town for the past two weeks. My grass has gotten so long, I’m not sure the lawn mower can hack it.
I was raised on a dairy farm in LA county and I can remember getting some flooding once, when I was pretty little. Our door was up a couple of steps and the water was just licking the edge of the top stair…
Harrumph. Wind, wind go away…
We’ve got some really soggy yards around here in Southeastern PA. We still have some roads closed, and some serious flooding in the area. Fortunately for us, we live in an area where all we get is soggy yards, and an overactive sump pump.
OK so far. I hope you stay the same
Reenie, there’s only one solution to wind. If you can’t beat it, join it: wind chimes.
Of course, in a serious wind, you need durable chimes.
You’re absolutely right! And that’s why we have a sextet of wind chimes lining our back porch. Where we are located, a lazy breeze kicks up every day at about 11 a.m. and settles down around 4 p.m. Usually I am most grateful for Mother Nature’s air conditioning, but lately we’ve had powerful annoying gusty winds. Yet, it has been symphonic!
I couldn’t believe it rained again Friday night. Good heavens. But my gardens have never been happier and healthier. The roses are magnificent. I mean truly glorious.
Even though a lot of our precipitation first came down as snow, we in Maine have had one of the westtest seasons in recent memory. We’ve had rivers overflowing their banks due to ice jams, flooding along the coast, and plenty of wet basements everywhere.
Our landscape is still suffering from a bad case of the inter-season “uglies,” though. Nothing is blooming just yet, so everything is still brown and sticking up out of mud. There is reason for hope: my lilac bushes are budding.