Australia Weather News

Rain has returned to farming regions in South Australia. But the drought is not over — it just looks like it.

A carpet of grass is again coating the paddocks of Chris Rowntree's property in Myponga on the Fleurieu Peninsula, south of Adelaide.

In some places, puddles and mud are even lining the ground.

But looks can be misleading.

"It is deceptive," dairy farmer Chris says.

Despite the arrival of the winter rains, including hefty falls this week, Chris says his farm is still in drought.

Large parts of SA and Victoria, as well as parts of Tasmania — the home for a lot of Australia's wine, grain, meat and dairy production — remain at their lowest rainfall on record for the last year and a half.

For some, it's gone on for even longer.

Beyond the muddied boots, there is a convoy of trucks full of hay still rolling in from the other side of the Nullarbor in Western Australia.

Livestock are still being hand-fed daily.

Producers are still stretched thin and worn down.

"We're probably lucky that at least we've had rain," Chris says

"But if you look closer and drive through the paddocks, there are areas that are very thin in pasture, and growth rates are being very poor."

It's what's known as a "green drought".

The rain may have come, but in many cases, it's arrived too late.

Cold is now hindering the growth of plants.

"Most people would know that their lawns in the middle of winter don't tend to do a lot, and that's what's happening on the whole farm," Chris says.

It's not just the late arrival of the rains this year. Since spring 2023, the rains have stopped early and arrived late.

It's left pastures dead or stressed, and the ground thirsty for every drop that falls.

Myponga is one of the wettest parts of the state.

Still, Chris and his wife, Bev, have to purchase the majority of their feed — something that is now scarce in South Australia because of the prolonged dry.

"Between that May period and now, it's about nine semitrailer loads of feed that we've had to purchase that we normally wouldn't. Which is, yeah … quite a lot," he said.

Fifteen minutes south, in Hay Flat, the trees show the reality beneath the thin veneer of green.

"In about March this year, I noticed a number of trees, including quite large trees, with their leaves going brown and dying off," Hay Flat property owner John Dallwitz says.

"Normally in late summer, one gets a certain amount of die-off … but this year, it seemed worse than usual or more than usual."

He's worried for some of the older eucalyptus trees on his property, which are showing severe signs of stress.

"It's devastating," he says.

But the rains brought life back for at least some.

"That's alive," John says, as he scrapes back the bark of a tree.

"That's nowhere near dead. So I'm very thankful that my 200-year-old, 300-year-old tree is going to survive."

He's not the only one with these concerns.

An hour east, botanist and ecologist Dean Nicolle grows over 800 species of eucalyptus at the Currency Creek Arboretum.He estimates between 10 and 20 per cent of all the eucalypt species that are planted at the Arboretum are going to die or be "severely drought impacted".

"We're hoping that with the rain we've had now, that some of these plants will re-sprout, but a lot of that will depend on conditions going forward," he says.

Nearby, in Langhorne Creek, Beck Burgess deals with the deception of the green drought every day.

She is a farm consultant but also owns a microbrewery just out of town.

"The frustration for me is when we did have people coming to our bar and saying 'the drought is over,'" she says.

"Even if it does look green, there's still very challenging times for producers."

She says the realities of the harsh seasons are seeping through all parts of the community, including their own business, where the price of raw ingredients needed for beer — like hops — has gone up.

"There's a roll-on effect when [people in] agriculture in these rural areas are unable to contribute to their local economy," she says.

"So the local shopfront is affected, the tractor dealership's affected, local shearers, all the like … but also the local businesses as well.

"People we know won't necessarily be spending the same amount of money within the townships as well."

Even though things are bad, people in this part of the state are aware that it could be worse.

In regions to the north and east of Adelaide, there's nothing green about the drought.

While rain has been reaching the southern regions since late May, it has all but missed areas to the north and east of Adelaide.

Steph Schmidt, who farms crop and livestock in the Mid North and Mallee regions, says the landscape has changed very little from the scenes of dust storms and brown dirt in June.

At her property in the Mallee region, their crop now has to be re-sown, after being "blown out of the ground or covered up".

"Across the majority of our farm, it's still really in drought drought or brown drought, whatever we want to call it," she said.

"Lots of the neighbours [at our Mallee property] have said the last couple of years were some of the worst on record, but we still had crops come up and still grow.

"Whereas this year, talking to some of the neighbours, they're saying it's the worst they've ever seen. It's completely bare."

This weekend's rain is more than welcome.

Steph describes it as being like a "lifeline" to people who have been worn down for several years.

"I think it would be a breather more than anything," she says.

But like those in the south, it's come too late to make a substantial difference.

As a psychologist, Steph knows too well how much of a toll the back-to-back seasons of dry are taking.

"It's exhausting," she says.

"I think the hardest part of the drought is that there is so much uncertainty. We never know when that recovery is actually going to get started."

The contrasting situations, from one end of the state to the other, speak to the nuance of drought.

Monash University climate scientist Ailie Gallant in many cases, the timing of rainfall is everything.

"There are no official definitions for drought. In fact, there are hundreds of different definitions for drought, and it really depends on the perspective from which you're looking at," Professor Gallant says.

"Farmers, they know when they're in drought. And I think we should trust those on the [land] to realise when those systems are in stress and when they need help."

She said the changing face of drought could also give a false sense of relief.

But she says a drought is only truly over when big and persistent rains have replenished the streams, rivers and soil moisture enough that it can be sustained.

A lack of rain during the critical growing season is one of the hallmarks of climate change for this region.

Cold fronts and low-pressure systems rolling in from the west, which used to be a weekly occurrence, have become more sporadic.

"So that is certainly an ongoing trend that is on top of any droughts and things that we might get," Professor Gallant says.

Farmers in the region, who have learned to live at the mercy of extreme weather for generations, are already adapting to that future.

For now, there is some more hopeful news on the horizon.

The long-range forecast indicates early spring could deliver higher-than-average rainfall to much of the east — the very thing farmers are hoping for.

In the meantime, drought-weary farmers say consumer buying Australian produce and government providing further funding for low or no-interest loans will help.

Steph Schmidt wants to remind communities in the thick of it that they will make it through.

"For people who are living it, I just want to share the reminders that we will get through to the other side of it."

Credits:

Drone vision:Guido Salazar