For a state highly dependent on agriculture, this is a stunning reversal of aquatic events. Not long ago, South Dakota’s newscasts were filled with stories about persistent drought and the need for emergency farm subsidies, importation of livestock feed from other states, and extremely low water levels that threatened irrigation and recreation on the reservoirs, lakes, and rivers. But that has now changed 180 degrees, and South Dakota has gone from drought to surplus.

Lake Oahe on the Missouri River, Spring 2000 (left) and Spring 2005 (right). (NASA)

This spring, the Missouri River (or “Big Muddy”, as it was nicknamed many years ago), which cuts north to south through the center of South Dakota, has risen back to life. Lake Oahe, which had a spring level about 1607 feet above sea level in the Spring of 2000 and had shrunk to a level of 1574 feet in Spring, 2005 – has now grown back to a level of 1612 feet – nine feet above the historical average height of the reservoir. All of the Missouri’s boat ramps are back in operation, a change from recent years in which receding water levels rendered them useless.

There is so much water in eastern South Dakota that the James River remains above flood levels its entire length, from North Dakota to Nebraska – and projections are that flood conditions will continue at least through the end of the month. That is making life difficult along the James right now, but at least it will replenish ground water supplies.

Weather and climate are two different things, and South Dakota’s long term climate suggests it is certainly possible to dry out quickly. But in terms of water, the state’s climate has changed for the better after years of drought.

UPDATE, 4/23/09: Video from Lake Oahe is available at this link from KELO-TV.

The other day, as I drove past the Walgreens store at 57th and Cliff, I couldn’t help but notice large, red words on their electronic sign that screamed, “FLOOD WARNING.” I immediately felt cautioned, alerted, alarmed – and confused, since there was no rain in the forecast on this February day. Then I thought about the sign and figured out what was going on. The store is located on the southeast corner of 57th and Cliff, meaning that it is 50 feet inside the Lincoln County border. Had the store been on the northeast corner of the same intersection, there would have been no warning at all, because no warnings were in effect for Minnehaha County.

The warning itself was posted because of the potential for lowland flooding of farmland along the Big Sioux River on the opposite end of Lincoln County, many miles from where that sign was warning passing motorists. I’m not criticizing Walgreens, because the sign was displaying a valid warning for the county in which it was located; nor am I criticizing the National Weather Service, which issued a perfectly valid, by-the-book, weather alert.

Here is the problem: every motorist who saw that sign probably imagined it was bogus, or at least another exaggeration of a perceived threat to their person or property. In weather, just as in every daily newspaper and newscast, we have so needlessly over-used the word warning that it is largely ignored. Just within the past few hours, there have been warnings published about the financial markets, oil supplies, North Korea, Twitter, and tenant cannabis farms. Who can stand the stress and anxiety of all these warnings? I mean, we can be alarmed about only so many things before warning fatigue sets in.

As we head into the warm season, we will soon be warned about everything from penny-size hail to violent tornadoes. Regardless of the severity of the threat, the weather and broadcast industries will be working hard to make sure that every weather warning receives thorough coverage on every electronic medium.

Yet people have become so de-sensitized to the incessant warnings they receive each day that the question asked after most of these storms will be not whether it came without warning, but rather whether anybody paid attention.