In spite of a drought, the weather in Carlsbad, New Mexico has lumbered along its yearly cycle and reluctantly settled into the monsoon season. Rain is now a force to consider in daily life. Gone are the days of leaving the bicycle in the backyard without thought for rust or a soggy backside. At any time summer showers can drench bikes and gardens alike. Big storms create the Canal Street Lake, a traffic impediment that survives the dry spells between storms on the lips of townsfolk grumbling about the municipal drainage system. But mostly, the rain in Carlsbad is insubstantial. Sometimes, withered by the hot, dry air, rain drops evaporate down to nothing before they reach the ground, a phenomenon known as virga. The gray sheets hang limply in the air, teasing the thirsty plants and animals below. A good rain, though, can make the desert bloom. For some persistent grasses, like Sporobolus, a few inches are all it takes for green growth endure for another year. Helianthus (sunflowers) on the other hand, perk up right after a rain but wilt again within weeks without a repeat performance.
At the office, griping about the rain varies by department. For range, responsible to ranchers and their grass-hungry cattle, whatever rain has fallen is never enough, and even if it were, it didn’t fall in the thirstiest places. Their hope is for the next storm. The cavers, meanwhile, are disappointed. The same rainwater that creates the whimsical features in our limestone and gypsum caves also transforms these passages into turgid, one-way tickets to the underworld. This of course precludes caving. But others are also concerned about safety. To look at a storm and see past the water, talk to a firefighter. For them, storms are carriers of the “money lights,” lighting strikes that magnify both their compensation and the dangers they face when combating a blaze in remote areas whose main groundcover is tinder.
While most rain brings life, for about a month I’ve helped supervise a rain of death. As part of the Restore New Mexico program, the Carlsbad Field Office has been spraying Tebuthiuron herbicide on thousands of acres to suppress overabundant creosote and whitethorn acacia, thereby promoting grasses. My duty in this treatment? I follow on the ground to make sure the herbicide pellets fall where they’re supposed to, avoid where they’re supposed to, and that the pilot returns safely. The Tebuthiuron, or “spike,” is water activated, so the pellets sit on the ground until the next rain releases the poison, which quickly kills the brush. Controlled burns years later remove the remnants and the final result is beautiful grassland. At least, it as long as we get some rain.