Californians have been eagerly, albeit somewhat nervously, awaiting El Niño, the weather pattern that brings winter rains to a state experiencing more than four years of drought. Here in Southern California, people early on got to work cleaning leaves and debris from their roof drains. Some purchased and installed rain barrels to capture and keep whatever drops eventually fall. They’ve stacked sandbags along low edges of their property. And they’ve turned off their outside sprinkler systems.
But where is the rain?
Earlier this month there was a fairly decent downfall that got everyone’s hopes up. At our house, it told us that the leaking roof we had repaired a year ago had reopened in one spot and presented a new spot elsewhere. We called the roofer who offered to come before the next anticipated rainfall, and he did, coming hours before the storm was projected to get underway. We agreed to call him, one way or the other, to let him know whether his repairs had worked. But it didn’t rain that night. Nor since.
The forecast was revised to predict a heavy rain later in the week. Never happened. Now there’s no talk of rain anytime in the near future. There’s snow in the mountains that’s exciting skiers and water experts but nothing down here. It’s chilly, but the sun continues to shine.
And the app on my smart phone continues to read:
“Chance of rain 0%.”
Thanks. A new term learned — Pacific Decadal Oscillation. I was tempted to quip, “Maybe next year”, but decided that would be cruel. But you do live in a desert, right?
Yes, it is a desert but except for one type of palm tree; none others are native to this area. That includes all those tall trees at LAX and those lining the streets all over LA. They were all brought here from elsewhere, to make it look more like what they thought a desert should look like, I guess.