|California has one year of water left|
You can't step into the same wet river twice, is more like it. The dry ones, though, which is what they all become, eventually, step into them as often as you like, they are close enough to "same" to qualify, lacking that constant, altering wash that drives the point home of the saying.
|"My Your Our Water" by Erin V. Sostak, Scottsdale Waterfront (art that floats) (..and an OSG contribution to the blog)|
|The TAKE ONE box. I love those.|
|Canal path card|
Water wisdom. Which we apparently lack, as illustrated by the observation in the linked opinion piece:
Right now the state has only about one year of water supply left in its reservoirs, and our strategic backup supply, groundwater, is rapidly disappearing. California has no contingency plan for a persistent drought like this one (let alone a 20-plus-year mega-drought), except, apparently, staying in emergency mode and praying for rain.
Out for ourselves, each for his or her self, we will certainly run out. California perhaps first, and logically anyway Arizona, here in the desert, following afterwards, some time, anyway. It is one of the theories about why earlier peoples who lived here thinned out and moved on. On the long time scale, change in this place means dryness, not flowing water changing a river moment by moment, but rather the long, dry, dusty gulch baking in the sun beneath a crystal clear blue sky.
The foolish will stare at the parched, cracked ground and wonder why. Sophia, come to this desert, we need you.