The Verdict -- Robert Gardner

Once upon a time, we used to call Orange County semiarid. Now strike

the “semi.” We are about as arid as the Sahara. Were it not for the water

we import, we would have a few million very, very thirsty people. We

usually don’t get much rain, and when it does rain everything always

seems to flood. A good storm finds me in the backyard, readying my ark.

All this is a roundabout way of getting to why Orange County in those

early days was only semiarid. Believe it or not, there existed in the

northern part of the county and in Los Angeles County what we called

artesian wells. These were spontaneous bubbling bodies of water that

gushed from the ground without any help from man. They proliferated in an

area surrounding the present town of Artesia. Oh, the water didn’t shoot

up in the air like Old Faithful in Yellowstone Park. It just bubbled out.

Nevertheless, they existed.

I used to come from the city to Balboa on the Pacific Electric and

looked forward, in my boredom, to the artesian wells. Having grown up in

an arid area of Wyoming, I was fascinated with and by water. Let others

worship snow-crowned mountains or flowered meadows. For me, it’s the

ocean, and if there’s no ocean around then an artesian well will do. The

wells are, of course, long gone together with the saber-toothed tiger,

the giant sloth and quicksand.

As I write this, it is raining, so I have to stop now and go out and

finish my ark. When it’s done, I’m willing to bring aboard the obligatory

animals, two by two, but I draw the line at snakes. Noah had his place,

and he did a great job, except why he had to save snakes I have never

understood. Rats, toads, scorpions, OK, but snakes -- ugh.

* ROBERT GARDNER is a Corona del Mar resident and a former judge. His

column runs Tuesdays.