The California drought

Last updated on January 20, 2023

I arrived in California 16 years ago. It was June and the hills were dry and golden brown. A week went by. Two. Three. No rain, and none in the forecast. It took months before I realized that this was California’s version of normal. “We won’t get rain until after Thanksgiving,” explained a local. “And it will rain on and off until maybe February.”

I couldn’t process this. Philadelphia had thunderstorms all summer, a decent dry patch in autumn, sleet, and snow in the winter and rainy spring. There was never a shortage of precipitation or humidity. And yet the bay area was either warm or downright hot for nine months out of the year, no humidity, and no precipitation.

I looked at the highways clogged with dotcom-era traffic. I looked at the new construction of homes and office parks to accommodate the influx of residents. I looked at the weather forecast. There was never a question in my mind that this combination was not sustainable.

We’re now in our third year of drought in the Bay Area. Severe megadrought. For as little rain as we got before, there’s noticeably less now. It was 70 degrees F and sunny through a good stretch of January when we had zero precipitation for the first time in history. They’re now saying that this drought could possibly be the worst California has seen in 500 years.

From the Mother Jones article: “Scientists can’t predict how wet or dry a specific season is going to be, but they can forecast drought trends over time, and they’ve been warning us for decades that the droughts will become more common.”

The locals all shrug it off. “It’ll rain next week, next month, next year.” For the past year, we’ve been asked to cut our water consumption by 20%, just enough to keep us all aware of the drought conditions, but not nearly enough to make a dent in our rapidly diminishing lakes and reservoirs.

We had a decent storm in early February, the kind that produced enough wind and rain to actually require us to use our windshield wipers and dig out the umbrellas. But one storm isn’t enough to pull us out of this thing. As Peter Gleick says in the Mother Jones article, “We have a long history of panicking over droughts and then forgetting about them as soon as it rains.” And it’s true. I hear it every day; we had some rain, let’s stop worrying.

But I worry. I see skier friends complaining about the lack of snow in Tahoe. I see low or dry lakes, creeks and reservoirs, and I wonder how long we can hold out. This isn’t about whether or not the neighbors can fill their pool or wash their car, but about whether there will be water for agriculture or what happens when the drinking water runs out.

But for now, we’re not talking about this. After all, we just had three whole days of rain. The crisis must be over.

I’m starting to think that only the outsiders see just how precarious the water situation is. For as much as I love the sunshine and warmth of California, the water supply in Seattle is looking better and better every day.