I am the rainmaker

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.