November Sabbath
Chilly, low clouds cling along the foothills the past two mornings after the rain event that never materialized, less than two-tenths in the past six weeks after our first storm of the season, mid-October. Our higher country above 1,000 feet is holding remarkably well in the old feed, more residue than usual held over as a result of lighter stocking last season in response to the high hay prices the season before. And so it goes.
October’s two inches soaked well into the granite, and with above normal temperatures the grass took off in the protection of the old feed, temperatures apparently warm enough to give the new feed strength, judging by the condition of the cows with calves and the amount that they are currently milking. We want to get started branding, but prefer to wait until after a good rain and a promise of feed to insure that the calves heal-up quickly.
It’s been a unique and unusual beginning to our grass season, trending dry again after three below average years of pumping stockwater all summer. Though in many respects, agriculture on the Valley floor is harder hit than we’ve been, continuously punching deeper wells into a declining aquifer. One can’t help but wonder whether the future of the San Joaquin Valley, once (and perhaps it still is) the richest agricultural region in the world, will be dedicated to housing people or raising food, both hardy consumers of water.
I think it is apparent that the federal flood control projects on nearly every river feeding the Valley, implemented half-century ago, may have also diminished the amount and rate of recharge to the aquifer. Certainly the demand for water by municipalities is greater, and by environmental interests as surface water has been diverted to the Sacramento Delta. Towns like Mendota languish with the unemployed as thousands of acres (of relatively marginal ground) on the West side of the Valley lie fallow.
Many theorize that our water table, certainly mid-Valley, is influenced by Tulare Lake, once the largest body of fresh water in the United States. I recommend “King of California” by Mark Arax and Rick Wartzman for an interesting and detailed perspective of the times and circumstances that came together to influence changes to our Central Valley resources and landscapes.
Meanwhile back at the ranch, we cut firewood and wait for a rain – all seems normal.