Last night we had a new experience: a robotic telephone call, an automated warning: not to go out on the road!
We complied. We’d already read the river flood advisories and the flash flood warnings and decided to cancel our anniversary dinner out, and just scare up some food from garden and fridge. But we did go out on the land (squoosh, squoosh!), when the torrents diminished temporarily to a gracious drizzle: up the washed-out driveway and around the ravaged garden, to survey the damage.
We’ve been living on a soaked sponge for some time, and all those recent deluges tipped the balance. This has been the worst soil saturating and flooding I’ve ever witnessed since living here. Yesterday the trickling-brook-turned-roaring-river was banging the boulders together so hard, they kept sounding like booming gunshots. The downpours themselves roared, on and on. In the middle of last night came a loud cra-a-a-ack-ing sound, awaking us both: an uprooted tree going down. And we’ve had day after day of nothing but gray.
So, today, a little light-hearted collage, as antidote to the heavy-handed weather we’ve been enduring:
When I waited for light, there came darkness. -Job 30:26