When the Well Runs Dry
As groundwater overpumping forces farms to go fallow across California’s Central Valley, the future of land use hangs in the balance.
Text by Amy Crawford | Photographs by Andria Hautamaki
A few years back, Denise Kinabrew’s farm well ran dry. It wasn’t a complete surprise—after all, Californians have faced worsening droughts for years—but she feared for her valuable muscat grapes.
“I ended up having to hook my garden hoses together to run my domestic well,” she says. “I had no other way.”
Kinabrew, a third-generation farmer in Madera County who produces raisins, connected to a nearby irrigation canal to water the rest of her 20 acres, sparing the well she uses for drinking water from further strain. But the scramble underscored a fear shared by many farmers and rural residents in the region: What happens when the water stops flowing?
The San Joaquin Valley is at the heart of California’s agricultural belt, and it is among the most productive farming regions in the world. Roughly 6 million acres here produce a large share of America’s fruit, vegetables and nuts. Today, farms and orchards depend heavily on water pumped from aquifers deep underground. Decades of agricultural expansion and increased planting of perennial crops have boosted water demand, while climate-change impacts—including reduced snowpack, intense droughts and greater swings between wet and dry years—have made surface water less reliable.
“To some degree we have thought about groundwater as a limitless resource, and so have been using it in an unsustainable way,” says Nicholas Murphy, senior groundwater scientist for The Nature Conservancy in California. The Conservancy is working with farmers, agencies and communities to guide the region toward a more sustainable future.
Groundwater is easy to overlook. In some parts of the valley, water once lay closer to the surface than it does today. Now, many aquifers sit hundreds of feet underground, holding water that has been there for thousands of years. “We talk about this groundwater as ‘fossil water,’” Murphy says.
Yet water that took millennia to accumulate has been depleted in about a century. Across California’s Central Valley, declining groundwater levels are threatening drinking water, straining farms and degrading ecosystems, including rivers and forests that support native fish and migratory birds.
California’s groundwater crisis was a long time in the making, but in 2014, during a period of severe drought, the state legislature passed a law that aimed to plug the leak. The Sustainable Groundwater Management Act (SGMA), supported by TNC and partners, requires local agencies to develop and implement customized groundwater sustainability plans for their areas. These efforts include limiting local pumping, increasing recharge and incentivizing conservation.
The implications are enormous. To bring groundwater use back into balance, the Public Policy Institute of California estimates that up to a million acres of San Joaquin Valley farmland may eventually have to come out of production.
More than a harvest
Agriculture is woven into the culture of California’s Central Valley.
ROADSIDE: A hand-painted sign advertises farm-fresh treats and produce for sale in California's agricultural heartland. © Andria Hautamaki
LOCAL MARKETS: The Vineyard Farmers Market, open Wednesdays and Saturdays, sells local produce year round in Fresno, California. © Andria Hautamaki
RURAL ROOTS: Edwin de Jesús, pictured here attending the annual Joaquín Murrieta Horse Ride, represents a generation growing up in farmworker communities. © Andria Hautamaki
SMALL-TOWN TRADITIONS: Agriculture is woven into the culture of California’s Central Valley, but life here extends far beyond the fields. © Andria Hautamaki
California agriculture is a $61 billion industry that provides around 400,000 jobs. People are worried not only about lost income but also about family legacies that, like Denise Kinabrew’s, stretch back generations. Farmworker communities also face profound uncertainty as changing land uses reshape local economies and communities.
What happens to that land is now one of the central questions facing the region.
“It can’t really be overstated how much of a change that is,” says Bridget Gibbons, groundwater project director for TNC in California. “There will be real impacts to a lot of people and their livelihoods.”
Gibbons and her TNC colleagues are helping local agencies and partners evaluate what uses might be most suitable for fields that can no longer be irrigated sustainably. Leaving large areas unmanaged could worsen existing challenges such as dust pollution and other health burdens borne by rural communities. Thoughtful land-use planning will shape the region’s future for decades to come.
Some solutions are already emerging. With TNC support, some growers have begun on-farm recharge, flooding fields during wet winters so water can seep back into depleted aquifers. Other farmers have made a transition to less water-intensive uses, including desert-adapted crops like agave.
Land may be repurposed for groundwater recharge projects, renewable energy development, recreation areas or habitat restoration. Done well, such efforts could help California meet its renewable energy goals while benefiting imperiled species that call the San Joaquin Valley home. At Capinero Creek in Tulare County, TNC’s restoration work is helping rare species such as the blunt-nosed leopard lizard and burrowing owl reclaim parts of their historic range.
“If we can do that strategically,” Gibbons says, “then hopefully we find a smoother path forward, with solutions that work for everyone.”
In the rural hamlet of Okieville, a groundwater recharge project has helped provide more reliable drinking water to residents. Named for migrants from Oklahoma’s Dust Bowl who settled here in the 1930s, Okieville is surrounded by dairy farms and nut orchards that provide much of the area’s employment. Residents have long relied on domestic wells for drinking water, but in recent years these began to run dry.
“You wake up in the morning and get ready for school—no water! You panic,” says Aaron Fukuda, CEO of the Tulare Irrigation District, which manages the area’s canal system.
In 2024, with funding from the state and support from residents and nonprofits, the district completed a new groundwater recharge basin on a former ranch. During wet winters and springs, the basin captures rainwater and snowmelt from the Sierra Nevada range, allowing it to seep into the aquifer rather than flow away. That water not only supplies Okieville’s wells, it also ensures more reliable irrigation. Meanwhile, the basin provides habitat for migratory birds.
“That’s the heart and spirit of a multibenefit project, right?” says Fukuda. “You don’t do anything for a singular purpose. You look at how you can bring people together to solve multiple problems.”
The Conservancy is working with water managers like Fukuda across California to develop similar projects that support reliable water supplies, productive agriculture and healthy ecosystems. But the success of those efforts will be measured not just in acre-feet recharged or habitat restored, but in the lives and livelihoods they help sustain.
Denise Kinabrew is 67 and increasingly thinking about the future of her farm. She and her neighbors have been through plenty of hard times, and they have stewarded their land through all of it.
“It’s very fertile farmland,” she says.
Kinabrew hopes the farm will stay in her family. But what form it takes, and how much water will be available to sustain it, remain to be seen.
“It’s not about the profit so much as about the pride of work. I say this very affectionately. It’s the best life ever.”
About the Creators
Amy Crawford is a Michigan-based freelance journalist who writes about the environment, cities, history and culture.
Andria Hautamaki is an American photographer based in Chile.
These photos were funded in part by the Institute for Journalism and Natural Resources.
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