I thought love was in the air on a recent flight I took around Santa Maria until I realized it wasn’t love, it was water falling from the sky.
Even if it wasn’t romance soaking into my feathers, my heart fluttered all the same. I honestly, truly, genuinely couldn’t recall the last time I felt rain on my face.
And then it stopped.
After one afternoon of precipitation, a few of my neighbors started grumbling about the downpour. Sure, they were happy at first (“The farmers need this,” they said knowingly, heaving a sigh of relief on all agriculturists’ behalf), but as the outdoor plans they’d set for the next morning headed toward a very soggy cancellation, they started complaining. It took all of a few hours.
“This rain has been good for our reservoirs, but enough is enough!” they groused, even though they’re pheasants. “If this doesn’t stop soon, we’re going to have to build an ark!”
These are the same neighbors who see reports of massive snowstorms on the East Coast or in the Midwest and chuckle wryly at me if we happen to head out to get the mail at the same time, “Global warming? Tell that to Chicago!”
They’re situationalists, to coin a name for them. They don’t believe in any trends beyond the scope of their immediate sphere of observation, and their hopes for the world fail to extend much beyond their own lives. They latch onto any detail that, to them, disproves an unloved rule.
In other words, they believe several hours of rain solved the state’s parching problem. I mean, look at all that water!
I just checked the U.S. Drought Monitor’s map of California and—yep—a huge swath of Santa Barbara County is still shaded an angry red, indicating “Exceptional Drought.” The bulk of the state is merely a bright red, indicating “Extreme Drought.”
I’ve seen reports from scientists theorizing that California has centuries-long drought cycles, and we haven’t occupied it long enough as a super-thirsty civilization to get a good grasp on what that means. But even a tentative grasp is enough to impart the message: This is not good. We are in trouble.
While talking to a writer for SFGate’s blog, the California Department of Water Resources’ chief of water supply, David Rizzardo, said Folsom Lake did rise 15 feet thanks to the rain. Then he put that shift in perspective: “It’s now a larger puddle.”
Based on everything I’ve seen and read from folks in the know, California would need several weeks’ worth of such storms to float itself out of this dangerously dry situation. Water would have to start falling again from the sky, and then keep falling nonstop for hundreds and hundreds of hours.
We’re still in an emergency situation. We just have damp socks now, too.
But try telling my neighbors that. They’re happy that the forecast is putting parts of the Central Coast at 70, even 80 degrees in the coming days. What are they planning to do? Go swimming, of course.
The Canary is thirsty for some tips. Send ideas to canary@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Feb 13-20, 2014.