Rain From the South
There was only one good thing about the rain we got last week. It wet down the foothills providing a temporary respite from the dryness. However, I guess it also reduced the fire danger, at least for a brief period. And, I suppose, it did make for some beautifully clear skies a few days. Then too, I have to admit, it did knock down the dust. I suppose I am forced to admit, somewhat grudgingly, there were several good things about the rain.
The real problem with the 0.55 inches of rain I received, was where it came from. The clouds, and warm, moist air spun off from the hurricane southwest of the tip of Baja California. The monsoonal rain doesn’t mean our winter storms are beginning.
When that tropical surge ran into the much cooler air over the southwestern corner of California and Arizona, the formation of lightning was the product. We saw and heard a great number of “air strikes” rattling around the mountains. These are bolts of lightning flashing from cloud to cloud, rather than from cloud to mountain.
We did have a few “ground strikes” though not very many. As the thunder and lightning approached from the south, I walked out on my front porch to watch and listen. The sound of air strikes is a rumbling, grumbling sound that seems to roll through the clouds. A friend of mine said, “It’s as if Zeus were making thunderous drum sounds.” If the two clouds are close at hand, there is certainly a cracking sound, but the note is very different from a ground strike.
A lightning bolt banging into the ground creates a much sharper report. Not only does it bang like an air strike, but it also is accompanied by a powerful ripping sound. If we are close enough to a ground strike, the crack is much like a rifle or other heavy gun, combined with the ripping sound of the rush of electrons tearing through the air. My dad used to say it was a sound which “drives your hat down over your ears.”
As I stood on my porch, the gusting winds from the storm rolled in. I listened carefully to the sounds of the thunder. At that moment, there had been insufficient rain to suppress any lightning fires. I feared ground strikes could easily start a blaze in the mountains or foothills. To my relief, the sounds of the storm indicated there were very few down strikes. It was largely cloud to cloud lightning. I only heard one or two ripping reports during several minutes on the porch.
Though any down strike has the potential to start a fire, not every one hits a dead tree, or causes enough sparks to create ignition in the grass or brush. Sometimes a strike in a tree will cause the wood to smolder for several days before eventually dropping coals to the ground where it may light the grass or brush.
A few sprinkles fell in the late afternoon during the storm, just enough to make a mess of the windshields. Later in the evening the rain came down hard and fast. The next morning my rain gauge held 0.55 inches, plus at least three bugs.
A rainfall of over one-half inch, should be enough moisture to soak through the dry soil and sprout a few grass seeds. However, without another rain to irrigate the new tender sprouts, they will soon wither and curl.
This monsoonal moisture, coming into our area from the south, will often be a onetime-event. During our rainy season, the moisture coming to us from Alaska is often followed by another disturbance containing more rain. These repeated irrigations, if timed properly, support the tender grasses encouraging growth. Southern rains usually do not.
Last year, in 2017-18, our first moisture coming from Alaska was on October 17th when we got 0.45 inches, followed by another 0.26 inches ten days later. Then we did not have another drop until December. November was totally dry. Just before Christmas, on the twentieth, we got only 0.11 inches. The October rains started the grass on our foothill slopes. Before we got past New Years, most of those sprouts had died back.
The real start of grass on our hillsides had to wait until January, during which we got a total of 1.95 inches. This started on the fourth with a teaser of 0.02, another sprinkle of 0.01 on the sixth. Finally, on the ninth we received 1.16 inches. Our total for the 2017-18 season was 11.06 inches. This is close to an “average” rainfall year of 12.0 inches. Of course, 201617 brought us twice our average rainfall, when we received 24.32 inches.
The 2018 rain season is upon us, though our first moisture was tropical not Alaskan. So far we don’t have anything predicted coming from the north, though it will eventually arrive. The question, of course, is when and how much?
Brent Gill lives in Springville. His “Daunt to Dillonwood” column appears regularly in The Porterville Recorder through the generosity of Weisenberger’s Hardware on West Olive in Porterville. If you enjoyed this column, follow his blog at http://brentgwriter.blogspot.com.