PEAK EVERYTHING, OVERSHOOT, & COLLAPSE—Chapter-19-CA-aquifer-depletion.jpg
California has the law it needs
to retire Mom and Pop (early)
when they can’t find the fees
to fund its application—
let the citrus hang on trees,
fill the furrows with oranges
when they can’t pay
to drill a deeper well
if there’s any water left
after the Big Dogs drink,
leave and let the farm ground sink
clear to hell.
Posted in Ranch Journal, poetry, Poems 2026
Tagged California, water, poetry, subsidence, SGMA, acquifer depletion
We kids would perch upon the shingle shed roof where my grandfather would dry his few errant Tompson Seedless for raisins from his Emperor vineyard outside Exeter, California, careful not to snag our swim trunks on the nails to watch the July 4th fireworks show in town—a perfect ending to family picnics celebrating Independence Day after World War II, a time when our nation’s history was rich with common sense. The lack of it today cannot be blamed on Climate Change.
The majority of California has been identified as a High Risk Fire Area while insurance companies have raised premiums to offset theirs, and PG&E’s, losses in Northern California during 2018’s continuous conflagrations. Today, fire insurance is either cost prohibitive or unavailable to homeowners and businesses that has impacted home loans and values, and subsequently the State’s economy. While fire fighters risk their lives to keep wildfires contained to protect these interests, we’re still selling fireworks even though the State’s population has more than tripled since 1955 to a more urban population that has little hands-on experience. The Emergency Rooms are proof enough.
California has many problems as people and businesses leave the State—new taxation annually and a Governor who can’t decide what he stands for as he heads to Washington to bolster Biden’s nomination, and should he fail, make himself visible and available.
It’s time for the non-profit service organizations, churches, Boy Scouts, etc. to stop selling fireworks as fund raisers, stop adding to the costs of our communities and look into drone shows or other means to celebrate Independence Day, it’s time to outlaw fireworks.
Posted in Ranch Journal
Tagged 4TH of July, California, common-sense, common-sense, family, firework, FIREWORKS, independence-day, insurance-companies
Misting, light snow on Sulphur Peak (3,400’) this morning, we ‘ve enjoyed 1.02” received thus far from the last two days of this season-saving rain—a little more scheduled for today.
But it was the 0.48” we received on the 23rd of February that truly saved our grass after 3 months of nothing but a few heavy dews. The ground was so dry that it sucked all the moisture up by the next day to the extent the mud grips on the feed truck left no tracks. The grass, that has been so thin in the Flat where we’ve been feeding our first-calf heifers since last July, finally filled in, and now is beginning to grow. Add this inch and we’ll be good to go for three weeks or so, depending on temperatures.
Robbin and I, with the help of Allie, Terri and our neighbors, got our last bunch of calves branded on Wednesday before this rain. Due to last year’s heavy culling because of the drought, our bunches were small this year, but the cows and calves looked great. Whether or not we can make ends meet on so few numbers remains to be seen in the marketplace, now that the weather seems to want to cooperate—we have hope.
The third variable to survival in the cattle business has always been politics. With the world in turmoil because of the invasion of Ukraine and its subsequent impacts, anything can happen to disrupt the marketplace, inflation and the pandemic yet still in the wings. Unresolved issues regarding the implementation of the Sustainable Groundwater Management Act (SGMA), passed by the urban majority in 2014, adds to an uncertain future for all agriculture in California, one that will undoubtedly include foreclosures and lots of litigation for years to come. Meanwhile, imposed fines and the cost of water may be too great to farm in California if the State has its way, once the richest agricultural region in the world.
Nothing stays the same.
Only nothing is normal.
Posted in Photographs, Ranch Journal
Tagged California, cattle, Drought, politics, rain, SGMA, water, weather
for Mark Arax
The ground is sinking
to where the water used to be
all across the San Joaquin,
agriculture’s deficit spending
leveraged into fortunes
for California’s kings.
This side of the Sierra divide,
it’s always been ‘boom or bust’,
flood or drought,
nothing normal
in between
to bank on
but drill more wells for nuts:
almonds and pistachios,
another million humans
to farm like cattle,
corral in cubicles
they can’t afford.
With the nature of California,
paradox or conundrum,
a constant battle.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2019
Tagged California, Mark Arax, poetry, The Dreamt Land, water, wells
photo: Bodhi Rouse
Never figured on a sunset,
children, grandchildren around
a smoky Live Oak fire,
the SoCal storm bleeding north
above a frost-bitten garden—
dry stem tomatoes
and peppers hanging
like ornamental gifts
for Christmas.
I thought I escaped California in 1970
to ride back through time, didn’t think
I’d camp in one place this long.
Never figured on iPhone photos,
satellite dish for shade—
or planning for a future
that depends on water
and obsolescence.
Posted in Photographs, Poems 2016, Ranch Journal
Tagged California, photography, poetry, red sky, time, water
Posted in Haiku 2015, Photographs, Poems 2015
Tagged California, Drought, haiku, Hay, photographs, poetry, rain, weather, weekly-photo-challenge
Dark, about to rain
(confirmed on NOAA) –
there is no poetry today,
no sweet metaphors left
on the watermelon wagon
as we bump along.
Instead, I listen for
the whir of early drops
upon the roof, ready
to fall into a long sigh
and broadleaf grin,
too edgy now to write.
The grass will come
on stronger, hold ‘til
the Ides of March –
until another, hopefully.
It’s dark, about to rain
buckets-full, they say,
promising for a week.
Slow arriving, late to stay
awhile, or miss these
gray south slopes
altogether – you
never know in California.
drycrikjournal 