Wanted to include this in this morning’s post…
While I was taking photos yesterday some other people were also on the bridge overlooking the weir, drinking in the sight of so much water. There was also a guy very visibly praying.
The man standing next to me looked over and asked, “Is he asking for more?”
I burst out laughing before saying no, I think he’s saying thank you. But you never know. Some people always want more, don’t they?
Don’t worry. We haven’t been washed away.
Remember how I said the road will be covered by lunchtime? It was:
By dinnertime the water was through our gate:
It reached a high point around 10PM Tuesday night, still a few inches below the bottom row of post boxes (2010 had the two bottom rows underwader, so the level was a good half-meter below the worst flood we’ve experienced here).
By the time we woke up yesterday morning the water had already begun to recede, but the view at the weir downstream was still impressive:
Measuring by how much of the tree trunks are below the waterline, I estimate the water was flowing about a meter deep over the weir. That’s a LOT of water, people!
By lunchtime yesterday, we could see the road again…well, the mud covering the road, at least. And late afternoon we had a visitor taking advantage of the temporary wetlands with an abundance of forcibly relocated crabs and frogs.
This morning the river is safely back in its channel, and all that remains is lots of mud riddled with the little scratches of crabs that woke up to find they’re not in the water any more, and that there are predators about.
As stressful as it is to see the water rising, I’m glad I got to experience this one last time before we leave. It is humbling and inspiring to see the power of nature unleashed in this way.
Before you read on, take a look at this post I made almost a year ago. I’ll wait.
Taking the minion to daycare today was fun. It’s been raining for two days straight – aftermath of tropical cyclone Dineo last week a couple thousand miles north-east of us. Heading out, I almost ran into a fallen tree blocking half the road. Of the three access roads connecting the northern part of town, where daycare is, to the central part of town, where we live, two are closed due to flooding. Five of the schools in town are in the northern part. Traffic was a mess. I ended up taking the highway that runs past town to get back home, rather than deal with a road riddled with four way stops and a single lane bridge currently carrying the full brunt of morning rush hour traffic.
The storm drains are full – they’re not taking away the water any more. Rumour has it that in another town people have been water-skiing in the streets by hooking a ski rope to the back of a pickup truck. Sounds like a Jackass film in the making. The Vals River is visibly rising. I’m considering preemptively evacuating my car before the road becomes blocked. I estimate by lunchtime it will be too late. It looks like I’ll get to experience one last flood before we move.
Our new house is located between a lagoon and the ocean (oh, yeah, we found a house, our offer was accepted, just waiting on financing now), but luckily it’s at the top of a hill. Sure, the hill is actually a massive sand dune, but the wise man built his house on the sand, right?
Update: The river is in the road. My lunchtime estimate appears to have been a bit generous. I moved my car right after writing this post, though, so it’s safe.
Day 3. I am running out of time. No sight of the quarry yet. I did not expect this to be so hard. An inanimate object should not be this elusive. But it seems all the architects in this town did their work while smoking pot. And the realtors seem similarly stoned. Maybe it’s the heat.
I need to find something soon. For my wife’s sake. My child’s.
I’m dehydrated. I’m not sleeping any more. Yesterday I almost settled on a home with a room that can only be reached by ladder. I think the heat is getting to me.
I’m hopeful today will bring success. But I can’t help but feel I might not be the hunter here. As I drive down the street I can feel them watching me…stalking me…
This song came up over the radio this morning while I was taking the minion (my new name for Squishy as she speaks fluent Minion at this stage) to daycare. It was the studio version, of course, but I much prefer the live version which I saw the first time around Christmas. I love it when a musician makes one instrument sound like another instrument.
And they’re South African.