For years, it's bugged me that Houston gets substantially more rain annually than Brownsville, 53" to 25," despite being just 353 miles apart. That's nonsensical because in my old stomping grounds, Washington state, Forks has an annual rainfall of 121.73," while Sequim, just 72.9 miles away gets only 16."
The differences in rainfall across regions such as Houston and Brownsville, Texas, can be understood through the interplay of geography, climate, and prevailing weather patterns. Though both cities lie in Texas’ humid subtropical zone, Houston’s proximity to the Gulf of Mexico makes it far wetter. Moisture-rich air from the Gulf feeds Houston’s frequent rainfall, whereas Brownsville, farther inland and closer to the Chihuahua Desert, experiences drier conditions. Prevailing winds moving west to east carry Gulf moisture inland, delivering more precipitation to Houston, while Brownsville lies on the southern edge of typical storm tracks, reducing its exposure. Topography plays a smaller role in Texas than in mountainous regions, but even subtle elevation changes and Brownsville’s semi-arid influences help explain why its climate is closer to semi-tropical than truly tropical, with less rainfall and more variability.
With Brownsville getting just 25" of rainfall per year and future water needs critical, it may be time for our town to no longer water the lawn with the city's drinking water, even while we note that many use resaca water for that purpose.
The city depends heavily on the Rio Grande, but the river’s flow has become increasingly unreliable and vulnerable to prolonged droughts. The region’s reservoirs, Falcon and Amistad, are also in steep decline, holding only 25.3% of their capacity as of August 15, 2025, part of a long-term downward trend that dates back to the 1980s. Climate change is compounding these problems, with rising temperatures and shifting rainfall patterns reducing inflows while accelerating evaporation. Adding further strain, Mexico’s inconsistent deliveries under the 1944 Water Treaty continue to destabilize supply. Looking ahead, Brownsville is projected to experience water stress by 2050, 25 years from now.
The Brownsville Public Utilities Board (BPUB) has outlined a 2025 Water Strategy that focuses on diversification, conservation, infrastructure renewal, and collaboration. Efforts include investing in brackish groundwater desalination and indirect potable reuse, expanding conservation programs through tiered pricing and household incentives, and upgrading aging infrastructure with smart meters and modernized water intakes.
Santa Fe, New Mexico, situated in a high-desert climate, averaging less than 15 inches of rainfall annually, has made water conservation a way of life, utilizing xeriscaping, a landscaping approach designed to minimize water use. Residents and businesses rely on drought-tolerant native plants like sagebrush, agave, yucca, and cacti, paired with efficient drip irrigation systems that deliver water directly to roots. Grass lawn areas are greatly reduced.
Perhaps, as critical water shortages loom, it's time for Brownsville to implement Santa Fe's approach.
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When the clouds fail to gather and the Rio Grande trickles like a dying vein, the people of this valley stand at a crossroads. We all know water is life, yet we scatter it carelessly across thirsty lawns of imported grass. The truth is, every drop counts, and the ground itself can be shaped to catch and hold it if we work with the land instead of against it.
ReplyDeleteIn Tucson, Brad Lancaster showed how to turn hard streets into rivers once more. He cut the curbs, and the stormwater that once ran useless into drains now feeds mesquite, palo verde, and ironwood. Shade trees grow tall, fruit falls for the people, and the land itself grows cooler. A hundred thousand gallons harvested from rooftops and alleys, not by miracle, but by re-learning the language of the land. That is the Santa Fe model written into practice, only deeper: xeriscaping not as an aesthetic choice, but as survival, planting sagebrush, yucca, and agave as companions instead of fragile lawns.
Robin Wall Kimmerer writes about reciprocity, that plants are teachers, and that to live well is not to consume without limit but to give back in equal measure. Brownsville gets just 25 inches of rain each year, half of Houston’s bounty, and less each decade as the river falters. If we act as if the water is endless, we will learn quickly that it is not.
So let us take the wisdom of both traditions, the scientist with a shovel in Tucson and the ecologist who reminds us to listen to plants. Shape the earth with terraces, berms, and basins. Let drip irrigation whisper water directly to roots instead of spraying into the sun. Replace lawns with living medicine: cactus that blooms, agave that feeds, sage that perfumes. Let every roof and street catch the storm, not waste it.
This is not nostalgia. It is survival. Our region has always asked us to be humble, to plant not for abundance but for endurance. The river treaties and desalination plants may buy us years, but it is the simple work of harvesting rain, planting native, and treating water as precious that will carry Brownsville beyond 2050.
If we walk this path, Brownsville will not wither. It will bloom, not by trying to mimic Houston’s green carpets, but by embracing what thrives here in our subtropical climate. Native and drought-tolerant plants, shaded by trees that belong to this soil, can give us a landscape that is both beautiful and resilient. We do not have to pretend we are a rainforest or a desert. We can be true to our subtropical home and still treat water as the treasure it is.