The other month, when I was golfing, we got about six drops of rain. Not enough to break out the umbrellas but a warning of what might follow. I should mention that I was in Florida so I can golf while southern Ontario basks in whiteness.
My golf cart partner who took a drop on his nose remarked, “Where did that come from?” If he had worn a cap like most real golfers, that drop would never have made it to his nose. However, his remark started a line of conversation that continued for the next nine holes.
That drop of water was likely sublimated into a cloud that crossed from the Gulf of Mexico, soon to be renamed if Trump had his way. It was part of the current of water that came down the Mississippi River from the Great Lakes. The flow rate of the Mississippi River averages 1.2 miles per hour. The journey of 2,300 miles would have taken nearly seven months on the second largest river in the United States and the fourth longest river in the world. On the way our little drop of water probably bumped into one or two boats that ply that waterway. It would have passed through eight states: Minnesota, Wisconsin, Iowa, Missouri, Kentucky, Arkansas, Mississippi and Louisiana.
Our drop of water did not start in Lake Itasco in northern Minnesota the true source of the Mississippi River. It started far north in the forests of Northern Ontario. About two years ago our rain drop was part of a heavy snow fall in White River Township in the district of Algoma. The snowfall closed Highway 17 where it joined the Trans-Canada Highway.
In the spring melt our drop entered the White River and flowed into Lake Superior the deepest and coldest of the Great Lakes which is fed by 200 rivers. Most rivers rise in Northern Ontario but several flow from Minnesota into the lake.
From there the water flows at the rate of 183,000 cubic feet per second or 50 million gallons per day (that is 2000 swimming pools of water per day) out of Lake Superior’s southern tip down the St Mary’s River and through the Straits of Mackinac into Lake Michigan. In my research I was surprised to find that hydrologically Lake Michigan and Lake Huron are actually considered to be two halves of one lake.
It may well have taken our little drop of water more than a year to make the trip down the White River and across Lake Superior to Lake Michigan. The next part of the water droplet’s journey was through the eight locks of the Illinois and Michigan Canals which opened in 1848 and provides water to the city of Chicago. The Illinois canal streams south from Chicago and meets the Mississippi near the city of Grafton, Illinois. From there, it is 2,300 miles to the Gulf of Mexico.
The entry point is at the Mississippi Delta a hundred miles south of New Orleans. When the Mississippi River enters the Gulf of Mexico the water does not mix because the fresh river water which is so much less dense than the salt water of the Gulf floats on top of the Gulf water for many miles.
During a very hot day in February our little drop of water that was on the surface of the Gulf evaporated into a cloud and made its way on a westerly flow of air over southern Florida. The wee droplet that hit my partner’s nose had made its way more than 3,000 miles from Northern Ontario to southern Florida in a period of about two years.
The story does not stop there. How did our drop of water get to White River? It would undoubtedly have a story to tell that may span many years. That single dop of water may have been around for a thousand years before crossing Canada on a chinook. It may have originated somewhere in the Rockies a hundred years ago. It may have frozen and thawed many times over. It may have been skied over or part of a glacier.
The other part of the story is what happens to our little friend after it hits my partner’s nose. He brushed it off and we continued our game. It dropped onto the floor of the cart where it evaporated and became part of the high humidity that Florida is famous for. It floated though the atmosphere and began its life cycle over again. It may become a drop of dew that forms on our lawn, sinks into the soil and ultimately becomes part of the aquifer where our drinking water comes from.
In Florida, it can take rainwater several years to reach the aquifer or water table with estimates ranging from a few years to a decade depending on the soil type. A significant portion of rainfall evaporates or runs off before infiltrating the ground leaving only a small amount to recharge the aquifer. Much of the water in the aquifer or in the water table may be a thousand years old. If that happens, I may drink that little drop of water 10 years from now.
Our golf game was not interrupted by the six drops of rain that fell. The dark cloud passed over us and did not yield a shower. It is a strange phenomenon how a cloud can lose six drops and not really rain. We continued on our second nine and, half-way through, another cloud passed over us and the golf gods were not so kind.
We got drenched!◊