“Steamed Above, Soaked Below”: How Farmers Are Surviving a Sweltering Summer

●Xiaoliushu Farm in Shunyi, Beijing, July. Following the heavy rain, the soil is thoroughly soaked, but the crops are safe for now.
This summer, relentless rain across North China has made farming feel like opening a blind box. Vegetable prices have also surged. Summer is traditionally the harvest season for fruits and vegetables, yet this year there is little to reap. Sowing, normally carried out in August, was postponed until early September.

For those living in Beijing, summer feels interminable, with increasing heat and humidity morning and evening. The stifling, steamer-like conditions make it feel as though one has been transported to the south. Netizens joke that ‘Beijing’s climate is shifting towards Shanghai’s, while Shenzhen’s is turning Indian.’ Rather aptly, a recent study predicts that by the end of this century, Beijing’s climate will resemble today’s Xinxiang in Henan province, Shanghai will be comparable to Pakistan, and Shenzhen will be as sweltering as northern India.

According to the Beijing Climate Centre, the highest temperature recorded so far this year is 38°C. Although this falls short of last year’s peak of 41.1°C, the city has seen a greater number of hot days, totalling 18. Furthermore, the final hot day occurred on 22 August, later than in previous years. Coupled with above-average temperatures both day and night, the overall impression is that this summer has been broadly warmer.

Rainfall has also increased markedly. According to the China Weather Network, from June to 26 August this year, the Beijing Suburb Observatory recorded 37 days of rain, with a cumulative total of 740.9mm—roughly double the long-term average for the same period. Between 7 and 26 August alone, the observatory logged nine rainy days, slightly above the average of 6.87, with total precipitation reaching 325.1mm, nearly 4.6 times the typical amount for this window.

With relentless heat and downpours sweltering the air above and waterlogging the soil below, it is hard enough for people to cope, let alone for the crops in the fields.

I. This Year is Different from Last

Between July and August, successive heavy downpours hammered farms on the outskirts of Beijing. At Xiaoliushu Farm in Shunyi, the fields were waterlogged, causing sand from the subsoil to rise to the surface. The earth began to separate into layers, revealing streaks of black and pink. “It looks like pork belly—the last thing any farmer wants to see,” said farm owner Liu Gang. Once the soil has stratified, it must be manually worked to restore its original structure; otherwise, the ground will harden and compact.

Liu Gang experienced a similar situation last year.

That was in late July 2023, when Typhoon Doksuri unleashed a once-in-sixty-years deluge across the Beijing-Tianjin-Hebei region. After ten years in farming, Liu Gang had never encountered flooding quite so extreme. He raced against the weather; the moment the rain stopped, he rushed into the seedling greenhouses with his workers to save the crops. Yet many seedlings drowned, and the open-field plantings were almost entirely wiped out.

Liu Gang recalled that although the rainfall was intense last year, it was short-lived. Xiaoliushu Farm received advance notice from the relevant agricultural departments in Shunyi, allowing them to prepare ahead of time. This August, however, the rain lacked last year’s ferocity but fell almost every day. “Our seedlings survived last year, but this year they’ve all been soaked,” Liu Gang said.

●As rainfall picked up across Beijing in August, Liu Gang’s daily routine centred on protecting the seedlings and pumping out floodwater to safeguard the autumn and winter harvest.
As many fellow farmers have pointed out, this year’s rainfall differs markedly from last year’s torrential downpours. In previous years, Beijing’s heavy rains would arrive with sudden force but clear quickly. This year, however, the rain has lingered for over three weeks, with some areas experiencing intermittent showers for nearly two months. Precipitation levels have risen, concentrated largely in the northern parts of the city. Combined with high temperatures and soaring humidity, this weather presents a severe challenge for those working the land and exerts considerable damage on crops in the fields.

This summer, Xiaoliushu Farm has seen a drastic drop in its leafy green harvest. Even when the produce manages to ripen, its texture and flavour are far from what they used to be.

At the Beijing Organic Farmers’ Market, dedicated followers of Xiaoliushu Farm made a special trip to buy potatoes. “None left, they’ve all rotted from the waterlogging,” Liu Gang told them with a sigh. “All I have left are sweet potatoes.”

Ordinarily, the farm would supply the market with 200 portions of vegetables weekly during the summer. This season, that number has dropped to a maximum of 40. “Only hardier crops like certain okra and bell peppers have survived,” Liu Gang explained. “We’re looking at losses exceeding fifty per cent this year.”

II. Drainage, yet again

Having weathered last year’s record-breaking deluge, Liu Gang took the lesson to heart and overhauled his drainage arrangements. He widened the row spacing for open-field vegetables to 1.6 metres and switched to raised-bed cultivation, which also facilitates mechanical weeding. The seedling greenhouses were similarly adapted to the raised-bed system. This extra height buffers the soil around the roots, keeping the vegetable crowns out of floodwater during heavy downpours. Yet for all these precautions, nothing could withstand the unrelenting rain. The soil quickly reached saturation with nowhere for the water to drain, and many crops were still drowned. Both workers and tractors became hopelessly bogged down in the mud, left stranded and unable to move.

● On 13 August, Shunyi was hit by another downpour, leaving Xiaoliushu Farm’s tractor bogged down in the mud.

When asked about emergency response measures, the affected growers all echoed the same reply: drain the water, and keep draining it. However, with rainfall levels so extreme, the groundwater was already saturated, leaving nowhere for the water to go.

Lianxiang Farm in Chengde, Hebei, was also inundated.

Around 19 August, Huludao in Liaoning Province experienced historically unprecedented prolonged heavy rain. The volume, intensity, and reach of the storm far exceeded forecasts, marking the heaviest downpour since 1951 and resulting in 10 fatalities and 14 missing persons. Situated directly in the path of the storm, Lianxiang Farm endured its most severe flooding since the land was first reclaimed. Torrents of muddy water carved out a churning stream that washed away the local roads, cutting off all vehicle and pedestrian access.

● In the wake of the storm, the roads near Lianxiang Farm were washed out once more, bringing all traffic to a standstill.
With a stunned “surprise,” farm owner Yingying discovered that a well abandoned for years had suddenly started bubbling up. Seeping through the oversaturated soil, the water flooded the ground inside the greenhouse that had only just been levelled. It took nearly 15 days to drain away. As a result, the autumn planting schedule at Lianxiang Farm was delayed.

III.“There’s No Countermeasure for an Act of God”

Fellow farmers regard this year’s rainfall in North China as an act of God, convinced that even the most fertile soil would face utter devastation under two continuous months of rain.

While farming has always depended on the weather, the rising frequency of extreme conditions means growers can no longer rely on past experience to cope with climate-driven disasters. In a typical year, farms in the region might experience localized summer droughts or occasional pest outbreaks. Experienced farmers would respond by applying heavy irrigation at the right time, implementing pest-defence measures in advance, or carrying out targeted remediation.

“When it rains, all you can do is drain it. There’s no countermeasure for an act of God,” Xian Kong, owner of Kongkonggu Farm, told Foodthink.

Situated in Pinggu, Beijing, Kongkonggu Farm saw most of its fruiting vegetables damaged by the deluge, particularly aubergines, peppers, and tomatoes. Owing to poor drainage, recently sown cabbages, cauliflower, and broccoli were also drowned.

Although Kongkonggu had weathered heavy downpours in previous years, Xian Kong maintains that a full two months of rain in Beijing this year represents a climatic anomaly with no real precedent. “This year’s weather is the direct result of broader climate change. When faced with natural disasters, farmers simply lack the capacity to respond.”

Misfortune rarely strikes alone. Since June, extreme weather events have plagued regions across the country. In late June, the middle and lower reaches of the Yangtze River basin, along with Guangxi and Guizhou, endured prolonged, extreme heavy rainfall. Yet at the exact same time, provinces such as Hebei, Henan, Shandong, and Sichuan were suffering through severe droughts.

By July, the previously parched North China region was suddenly hit by torrential rain. Farmers who had been holding their breath over the drought found their relief quickly short-lived; the crops they had worked tirelessly to save were promptly washed away. Rather than the usual post-rain cooldown, temperatures persisted at scorching highs. Experts predict that climate change will increase the frequency of rapid shifts between drought and flooding, posing a severe threat to food security.

Such conditions have already drastically cut summer fruit and vegetable yields. But the worst was yet to come. Early August is traditionally the season for sowing autumn crops in North China, but the ground remained waterlogged and muddy, making it impossible to plant.

“We couldn’t get the Chinese cabbage and radishes in at all. It took immense effort and several replanting attempts before we finally saw seedlings emerge,” said Xian Kong.

●After a gruelling summer of adjustments, the pea shoots in Kongkong Valley have finally been planted.
Many farmers have delayed sowing by three weeks to a month, only managing to plant their autumn crops by early September. This will inevitably affect the winter vegetable harvest.

IV. Farmers face losses, consumers struggle to afford vegetables

The rise in vegetable prices driven by extreme weather ultimately passes through to the consumer. This summer, numerous vegetable-growing bases were hit by both drought and flooding. In August, prices climbed not only in Beijing but across Shanghai, Shandong, Sichuan, Hebei, and Henan as well. The soaring unit prices of everyday staples like cucumbers, tomatoes, aubergines, and green peppers have left shoppers declaring they simply cannot afford them.

Data on national wholesale prices for 28 key vegetables, closely monitored by the Ministry of Agriculture and Rural Affairs, shows that between 16 June and 15 August, the daily average price climbed from ¥4.27 per kilogram to ¥6.01 per kilogram, marking a 40.7% increase. From 22 to 28 July, prices peaked at ¥4.91 per kilogram—the highest level for this period in nearly a decade.

The heavy rainfall this year has delayed autumn sowing by roughly a month across much of North China, which in turn pushes back the harvest by the same amount. In a twelve-month cycle, losing a month of harvest translates directly to a month of lost income.

Farmers practising ecological agriculture face even steeper losses. Unlike conventional farming, ecological farming operates on a model of limited supply, premium quality, and higher prices. The relentless drizzle has not only left many crops with virtually no yield but has also severely compromised their flavour and quality, resulting in direct financial hits.

Moreover, ecological farming incurs higher recovery costs than conventional methods when disasters strike. Take weed control, for instance: plentiful rain fuels rampant weed growth. Conventional farms simply spray herbicides, perhaps at higher concentrations, whereas ecological growers rely heavily on mechanical or manual weeding. A weed surge inevitably drives up labour and fuel costs. Yingying at Lianxiang Farm noted that this year, one of their plots became so overrun with weeds that she simply could not keep up with hand-pulling them. In the end, she had to abandon the patch and let the weeds take over.

At Kongkong Valley, the apples begin to rot the moment rain falls. Neighbouring conventional orchards routinely apply fungicides to protect their fruit and ensure growth even in wet conditions. Kongkong Valley, adhering to ecological farming principles, cannot employ such conventional treatments, leaving its apple crop unprotected.

● Kongkong Valley’s chillies have finally broken through the soil and revived in September.
In reality, farmers face a wide variety of challenges each year. The more problems they encounter, the richer their experience becomes. Those practising ecological farming largely rely on physical pest control or natural farming methods, so they’ve all honed the knack of adapting to whatever the weather brings. Whether dealing with summer droughts and floods, or battling pests and diseases, they each have their own strategies. Yet, the extreme weather of recent years has turned even seasoned growers with a decade of experience back into novices.

When asked what improvements he would make to tackle increasingly erratic extreme weather in the future, Liu Gang said he plans to connect the drainage at the Xiaoliushu Farm to the government-built drainage network serving the surrounding area.

Liu explained that this drainage system actually existed before, but few farmers used it. Over time, sections of the channels became blocked and were left to fall into disuse. Farmers in North China are accustomed to a relatively dry climate. For many years, this drainage infrastructure went unused, and clogging was largely ignored. However, following the relentless downpours this summer, local growers reported the drainage issues to authorities. Quite recently, the government has relaid the drainage pipes in public areas. Once the autumn harvest is wrapped up, Liu will turn his attention to upgrading the farm’s internal drainage. He hopes that with both external and internal systems improved, the farm will be able to weather similar conditions should they strike again next year.

Xiankong noted that the only option is to prepare drainage in advance and select crop varieties suited to the terrain. For instance, in low-lying areas prone to waterlogging, they plant more flood-tolerant vegetables such as taro, or dig deeper drainage ditches.

“But if a truly severe disaster strikes, no measure will be enough.”

References

《How Hot Will China’s Future Be: Beijing Turns to Henan, Shenzhen Becomes India?》https://www.bjnews.com.cn/detail/172138062619114.html

《Experts Break Down Four Key Temperature Trends: Just How Hot Was Beijing This Summer?》

https://baijiahao.baidu.com/s?id=1809313354020679257&wfr=spider&for=pc

《Just How Hot Was Beijing This Summer?》

https://hqtime.huanqiu.com/article/4JJambizGEo

《Vegetable Prices Are Rising. What’s Behind It?》

http://www.scs.moa.gov.cn/gzdt/202408/t20240826_6461298.htm

Foodthink Author

Cai Rui

A tropical islander, a blend of northern and southern roots.

 

 

 

 

Unless otherwise stated, all images are provided by the interviewees.

Editor: Ling Yu