As you may know, California is in the throes of a major
drought—worst and longest spell of dryness since…well, that depends on your
source. But last year the state received less rain than in any year since
achieving statehood in 1850, and this past January was the driest on record.
This is serious business for the most populous state in
the country, with a huge economic investment in agriculture. Not to mention
housing developments and all those swimming pools.
Serious enough that Governor Jerry Brown has signed
legislation to provide $687 million in drought relief and President Barack
Obama has promised $183 million for relief as well. Plus—churches have been praying
up a storm (so to speak) and native tribes have been dancing
for clouds, too.
But apparently if you want it to rain around here, you
just put on a technology conference in San Francisco that I’m going to attend.
Because that involves me walking the seven or so blocks from the CalTrain terminus
to Moscone Center, and back again. And this, in turn, sparks gully-washers. It
does.
Back in November, I went to the Salesforce.com user
conference (called DreamForce). There had not been a drop of rain in the entire
Bay Area for months. I dressed in business casual, since my intention was
networking, and I did not bother with an umbrella.
(Look, I grew up in LA. I don’t think I ever owned an
umbrella until I lived in a country with monsoons, and I just never got down
with carrying them. When I lived in the UK I stowed umbrellas in my desk at
work, my car, my briefcase and my gym bag, and I hung one on the door knob on the front
door to my flat. I’d still hare out into pissing-down rain without an umbrella
because it just wasn’t in my genetic make up to remember to actually, you know,
pick it up.)
It was beginning to shower when I boarded the train in
Mountain View, but I thought, “Oh, SF has its own micro-climate; it won’t be
raining there. I’ll be fine.”
What an idiot. It poured.
By the time I got to registration at Moscone East, I
looked like Tammy Faye Bakker after the fall. (I’d put on mascara and all, on account of that
networking thing.) My hair was dripping and my clothes stuck to my body. I was
completely icky.
And just as I finally got more or less dried out walking
through the expo, I was drenched again running back to the train station.
And that was the one day of rain we got in months.
But I saw A Pattern developing when, two weeks ago I
heard weather guessers predicting a storm headed our way last week. “Oh, of
course there is,” I said. “I’m going to the RSA Conference.”
Well, so it happened. Nothing until Wednesday, the first
day I was headed up there; but quite a good rainfall on the day. This time,
however, I did take an umbrella with me, which got some serious use. Walking
both to and from the expo, it was just chucking it down. (And it continued
through the night.)
It rained a little on Thursday, when I went back up to
meet a friend for breakfast and make another round of the expo. And then it
rained again heavily on Friday and some on Saturday.
I have to say that it was lovely watching it come down
after months and months of relentlessly unremitting cloudless skies. And I love
listening to the drops splatting against the skylight and kitchen window. It
just makes me feel like there’s a natural kind of wash/rinse cycle going on for
us all.
Especially in the Valley they call Silicon, where all the
cars kick up more dust than you can imagine.
The rain has indeed been refreshing (although locals
grumble about it; I’ve noticed that they take anything less than sheer cloudless
perfection personally, as though someone’s abrogated their “But I’m living in
California” contract). Although everyone’s warning that it hasn’t made a dent
in the drought and grim days are still ahead.
Yep—long ways to go. But it’s rain, for crying out loud.
Actual rain, enough to wash some of the grime off the car and the dust from my
brain. The Stevens Creek Reservoir (one of my walking areas) has gone from this
(mid-February):
To this (Saturday):
Yes, you could still walk across the reservoir, but this
time at least you’d get your ankles wet. Baby steps, you know?
I'm really glad for several days of rain in a dry, dusty
landscape. And I’m happy to do my bit along with the churches and tribes to
bring it about. I’ll check the Moscone calendar to see if there are any other
conferences of interest coming up.
My fellow Californians—you're welcome.
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