Numbers don't lie.
But they don't tell the full story.
Over the past 18 months, Texas has endured hotter temperatures and less rain than during nearly any period in its recorded history. But no amount of statistics, however convincing, shows the burden and effect drought has wrought upon the land or how that drought affects everything from street repairs to the price of hay.
Consider: 16.83 inches of rain fell in Abilene in 2011, about 8 inches less than normal. This year, the total already is up to 12.53 inches, with historically rainy September still go to. Last year, Abilene endured 80 days over 100 degrees. This year, temperatures have hit 100 degrees or more fewer than 30 times.
But just because this year is relatively cooler and wetter than last doesn't mean Abilene — or any city, town or person in the area — is already in high cotton.
"We need people to understand that we're not out of the drought. It's not as bad this year as it was last year, but we're a long way from out of the woods," said David Harris, Brownwood's director of public works. "What last year's drought did won't go away anytime soon."
What it did, and is still doing in many places, is turn watering tanks to dust, toasting would-be verdant front yards to the color of bread crust and deepening worry lines across the faces of those who manage drinking water supplies.
But the drought has more effects than creating thirsty lawns.
SAVING WATER DRIES UP CITY BUDGET
The city of Abilene generated more than $10.1 million from water sales during June, July and August 2011. Through June and July of this year, that figure is less than half, according to data from the city's water department.
That's because people are using less water because of lower temperatures, a bit more rain and stricter regulations. Last summer, Abilene residents could water lawns two days a week. Since October, that's been limited to a single day a week.
Abilene residents used an average of 26.3 million gallons a day in June 2011. In June 2012, the average was 18.97 million gallons. In July 2011, residents used more than 30 million gallons a day of treated water. Last month, the daily average was nearly 8 million gallons lower.
Less water used means less water sold, which means less money for the city.
In Brownwood, water sales this year are more than $312,000 lower than budgeted, about 6.6 percent off plan. Walter Middleton, Brownwood's finance director, said the city balances budgets — even self-contained funds such as for water and wastewater — across funds. That means that a loss on the water side can affect things in the general fund, such as money for road repairs or how much can be spent on library programs.
Brownwood, like Abilene, has several million dollars in a reserve fund to use in shortfall cases like this.
LAKE LEVELS DOWN
So, if residents are using less water — presumably a good thing — and with a summer with cooler temperatures and more rain are those like Harris and Abilene's Assistant Director of Water Utilities Wayne Lisenbee still emphasizing that we must conserve, conserve, conserve?
Consider the numbers.
Lake Brownwood loses about a tenth of a foot — or 42 million gallons — each day to evaporation. At only about 50 percent full, there's a real need to save what water is there.
Abilene supplies water to more than a dozen communities and water supply corporations across the Big Country, and receives water from three sources. All of those sources are substantially low and getting lower — despite the relative bounty of rain this year.
Hubbard Creek Reservoir near Breckenridge is at about 38 percent of capacity, down nearly 18 feet below its spillway. At this point last year, the water level rested four feet higher. O.H. Ivie Lake, southeast of Ballinger, is at 13.55 percent of capacity, about 45 feet below spillway. Same time last year it was 11 feet higher. Lake Fort Phantom Hill is nearly 13 feet below spillway and has about 45 percent of capacity. Last year at this time, it was less than 9 feet low and still held about 59.5 percent of its capacity.
These lake level data are all from the Texas Water Development Board.
IT GETS WORSE
Abilene-area lakes are a virtual swampland compared to other West Texas water sources.
The J.B. Thomas Reservoir, which is west of Snyder, is a mud puddle. At about 0.42 percent of capacity, the lake is about 56 feet low. Last summer, it was four times fuller — though even then it was little more than a pond.
Both O.C. Fisher Lake and Twin Buttes Reservoir around San Angelo are effectively dry, even with some rain last spring. Simply put: it takes a lot of rain to recharge big lakes any appreciable amount.
Lake Throckmorton is now at about 20 percent of capacity, Throckmorton Public Works Director Casey Chambers said.
It would take at least 5-6 inches of steady rain to create enough runoff to significantly increase the water level there, he said.
Throckmorton pumped about 104,000 gallons a day from the lake last winter — down from nearly 300,000 gallons a day last summer. With outdoor watering restrictions now in place, that number is down some now.
"We're like everybody else," Chambers said about the city's concern over future water reserves. "We're not in very good shape."
In 2000, Throckmorton received national news coverage when volunteers pitched in to build the pipeline as the city was on the verge of running out of water. It pumped in water from Graham in 2000, 2001 and some of 2002.
Consider the economic numbers.
Last summer, the price of hay skyrocketed as drought scorched local supplies. Some farmers who produced nearly 4,000 bales in 2010, produced none in 2011, according to Reporter-News archives.
In August 2011, the cost of a large, round bale in this area jumped from $35 in 2010 to more than $90. Today, that price averages between $60 and $90, according to USDA reports.
Numbers don't tell the full story.
Consider Rodney Stephens, who ranches near Hamlin. He, like thousands of others across Texas, Oklahoma and other southwestern states, culled his cattle herds last year when his pastures withered and stock tanks dried up. Like so many of the ranchers of his father's generation during the brutal drought of the mid-1950s, he burned the spines of cactus to feed the pads to the few cows he could sustain.
"We're getting some rain this summer, and that's a good thing," Stephens said. "We've got a little grass, too, and it's green, sort of green. But if I take my pocketknife and stick it in the dirt, it's pure dust an inch or two down. Nothing lives long when it's dry like that."
Stephens, 60, said most people don't understand how bad things really are.
"Most people nowadays live in town. They see when their yards get dry, maybe, if they're not running sprinklers on it. They don't see old mama cows with needles in their gums from trying to eat cactus just to get a drink. They think if it rains, the lakes fill up. Well, yes, but it's like pouring water on sand at the beach. It takes a lot of water before you get ahead and get a puddle."
Chambers, like others in charge of shepherding community water supplies, is optimistic heavy rains will return to recharge lake levels, green up lawns and deepen the water supply.
"It's coming. It'll come a rain eventually," he said. "I just hope we're all still here by the time it comes."