Roger Moroney: Need rain? Just say it will be fine

We haven't seen much rain so far this winter. Photo/File

When you need some rain just say it will be fine
It has been rather dry of late.

A couple of damp old scrapes came through last week but overall it's still kind of dry out there.

For as long as I can remember, that great symmetrical hill out Taradale way called Sugarloaf is not a deep green.

It is a dullish old hue with mere threats of greenery.

And there was a brief downpour through these Bay parts during the first week of June and the one thing that startled me was that by the time I emerged and wandered outside about 8am the driveway had dried off... despite the single digit overnight temperatures.

It was not a light shower... it had belted down nicely, albeit briefly, but dried away so unusually quickly.

One of the Weatherwatch chaps summed up this mild welcome to winter as "it's too warm for this time of year".

He also noted that high pressure just north of the land was the culprit as it was feeding a westerly flow out of Australia... which was also rather pleasant in temperature terms.

"Hardly wintry," he concluded, and I could only agree as there was a fierce sort of north-westerly wind rushing across the landscape very much in the way it does around October... not June.

However, as one seasoned inhabitant of this region remarked when the subject of weather came up, it has happened before.

And hey, when the leaves fall in autumn they are assisted on their loosening way by winds.

Although not usually as strong as the ones we copped to mark the opening of winter... and generally from the southwest.

They'll turn southerly, he said.

And he was right.

But two days later they turned northwesterly again.

Climatic exports of a warmer than average Tasman Sea and Pacific Ocean.

Another member of the meteorological battalion noted some time back that this area of the globe was effectively lining up to welcome El Nino.

I used to think it was an Italian tenor but was put right when wild and warm westerlies took control of the summer and autumn weather back in the late 90s.

The El Nino of 1997/1998 echoed the ones we had in 1972/1973 and 1982 and 1983... and it brought a severe drought to the region.

However, here's the thing with a true-blue El Nino. In the winter colder southerly winds then tend to prevail, and in the months of spring and autumn southwesterlies tend to be stronger and more frequent — a sort of blend of summer and winter.

But we've been getting a pretty good run of northwesterlies so what's the story?

The story is... the weather is confused.

It doesn't know what to do - like me with an instruction manual for a new TV.

Whatever is happening it is having an effect.

It is giving chaps like Dan Corbett plenty to think about and talk about, and gosh he does it well.

I daresay Dan will touch upon the shortest day shortly. It falls on June 22 and from that day onwards the daylight hours will ever so slightly grow longer.

However, in the meantime, we have the Italian tenor singing his songs across the region.

And while we've had a few dousing showers of late they have been rather off and on and thus far have lacked consistency, and that means Mother Nature can dry herself off very quickly.

As has been reported, this is drought material.

The potential is very much there and Mr Sugarloaf appears to underline that.

For farming, agriculture and that sort of thing a shortage of rain and water is no good.

So one has to assist one's farming community and set about doing one's best to organise showers.

Consistent showers to get the water tanks rising and the land green again.

So what better way than to wail on about how oddly mild and dry it is and how we are potentially heading for a drought.

For this is like organising a cricket one-dayer in January.

Write it up, talk it up, hype it up and it will rain.

So crikey, this dry spell is set to continue right through until September and only a few spots will find their way to the soil.

There.

It's a done deal.

Get the raincoats ready and find a spot to shelter the sheep... she'll be hosing down again in no time.

Roger Moroney is an award-winning journalist for Hawke's Bay Today and observer of the slightly off-centre.