Rain, Rain, Where Are You?
When one thinks of Galicia in the winter, images of rain soaked grass come up. Dark clouds scudding in the sky, and drizzle working its way into every crevasse it finds. Our weather is much like that on other western shores. Western Ireland and the Pacific Northwest have similar weather. My husband says that the rain would appear at the beginning of fall and last until late spring. Depressing, but that's what gives Galicia its verdure and temperate climate.
For the past few years, though, things have been changing. We have had dry winters and wet summers. Months when not a drop of rain has fallen. Our well has almost run dry a few times, and springs that were never known to not have at least a trickle of water have dried out. This past summer was extremely dry. There were no immediate alarms until towards the end, because it followed upon an abnormally wet spring. But now the dry weather has continued for too long. A dry summer led into a dry autumn, and now a dry winter has begun. The rain that should have been delivered to the north, has fallen in such large quantities in the south and southeast, that several regions have had historical flooding. Here, we sit in the dust.
The levels of some of the reservoirs Franco loved to build in the 1960's are now so low, that the remains of the villages swamped by the water are now on view. At the Belesar reservoir, near Portomarín, one can now see what remains of the cemetery niches. Parts of the walls of the stone houses drowned beneath the waters can now be observed, as well as the remains of the ancient stone bridge that used to span the river Miño here. Portomarín itself used to be here, but was rebuilt higher on the hill, with its defensive tower-cum-church dismantled and put together again like a jigsaw puzzle.
At the Bárcena reservoir near Ponferrada, the old Roman road that once connected Lucus Augusti (Lugo) with Asturica Augusti (Astorga) can be seen once more. At other reservoirs prehistoric stone circles have reappeared, as well as Celtic hillforts. Legends have also been destroyed, as at Fervenza reservoir near Mazaricos. Neighbors used to say on certain days you could hear the churchbells of the submerged church. The water is so low now that you can see there's nothing there but dry, cracked earth.
While I love sunny days, and weeks of continuous rain do depress me, I don't like the thought that the level of water in our well is below normal for this time of year. Climate change reasserts itself and what may come will not be nice, even though it will be cloaked in a sunny smile.
For the past few years, though, things have been changing. We have had dry winters and wet summers. Months when not a drop of rain has fallen. Our well has almost run dry a few times, and springs that were never known to not have at least a trickle of water have dried out. This past summer was extremely dry. There were no immediate alarms until towards the end, because it followed upon an abnormally wet spring. But now the dry weather has continued for too long. A dry summer led into a dry autumn, and now a dry winter has begun. The rain that should have been delivered to the north, has fallen in such large quantities in the south and southeast, that several regions have had historical flooding. Here, we sit in the dust.
The levels of some of the reservoirs Franco loved to build in the 1960's are now so low, that the remains of the villages swamped by the water are now on view. At the Belesar reservoir, near Portomarín, one can now see what remains of the cemetery niches. Parts of the walls of the stone houses drowned beneath the waters can now be observed, as well as the remains of the ancient stone bridge that used to span the river Miño here. Portomarín itself used to be here, but was rebuilt higher on the hill, with its defensive tower-cum-church dismantled and put together again like a jigsaw puzzle.
At the Bárcena reservoir near Ponferrada, the old Roman road that once connected Lucus Augusti (Lugo) with Asturica Augusti (Astorga) can be seen once more. At other reservoirs prehistoric stone circles have reappeared, as well as Celtic hillforts. Legends have also been destroyed, as at Fervenza reservoir near Mazaricos. Neighbors used to say on certain days you could hear the churchbells of the submerged church. The water is so low now that you can see there's nothing there but dry, cracked earth.
While I love sunny days, and weeks of continuous rain do depress me, I don't like the thought that the level of water in our well is below normal for this time of year. Climate change reasserts itself and what may come will not be nice, even though it will be cloaked in a sunny smile.
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