We were anticipating a Santa
Cruz getaway when the skies opened up and tossed bucketfuls of water down on
our very thirsty California. Through gritted teeth, I thanked the rain gods for
ruining our trip even as the downpour saved the state from drying up and
blowing away.
I’m not ungrateful. Just
terribly guilty of not participating in the required group mantra of “We need
the rain.” I know farmers need the rain. And cities. And me. Still, there’s
literally nothing I can do to make it rain. Or vice versa. If I remark that the
rain ruined my weekend plans, I promise that won’t stop the rain from falling.
You have to be careful around
here about how you speak about rain. It’s the sacred cow of California. No
matter when it falls or how much it gives you, the required attitude is
gratitude.
Curse the wind. Curse the
sun. Curse the fog. But never ever
curse the rain.
I grew up in farm country so
I’m not ignorant of the water issues California is mired in. This isn’t the
fault of the rain. Its simple supply and demand. One of these has gotten out of
control. Guess which one. And it has nothing to do with turning off the tap
while I brush my teeth (which I do, by the way).
We took a quick run up to
Folsom Lake a couple of weeks ago to look at the damage the drought has
wrought. It was shocking to drive past the massive dam and see the lake’s
remnants. It was a hike to travel
from the lake’s former waterline down to the existing one. The drought had even
exposed ruins from a town that was purposely submerged when the dam was built in
the 1950s. Now shells sit next to dusty concrete foundations.
A water war in California has
been simmering for decades, with political grabs for water rights boiling over
at various times. As long as we overcommit our water resources, statewide
prayers for rain will continue.
Frankly, I think the rain
gods are tired of it all.
