Water’s Rising

“Ground water” came to our basement, over the last couple of weeks from the rain. Clear Creek County Sheriff’s office called with recording, warning about flood waters.  They had two locations, for sandbags.  Blessings come with challenges, often … eh?   Example, our wet-vac.  Used it every day, sometimes three times within a day.   Clear Creek’s normal flow is 200 cubic feet per second. On Saturday, the ninth, it was up to 700 cubic feet per second.

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Just down the road. The picnic table getting flooded!

Driving up the mountain, heading for the house, I felt compelled to pull over and get a picture of Clear Creek getting out of hand.  That picnic table is usually up on some dry ground.

Many stories, out there, would top mine about Nature’s power … clobbering us humans.  A couple of nights after our discovery that ground water was coming up through the basement floor, we were all doing our thing.  My wife and I were watching a movie and … CLICK … the power went out.  No lights, no electrical juice, no power to run the wet-vac.  So,  launching up one of those quick-prayers seemed like the only logical thing to do, for the power to be back in the morning.  

And, wow … the power was back on.  Then I turned on the old wet-vac, and continued my battle against the rising waters.  Couple of days after that the Honda Pilot we just bought was starting up and turning off and starting up and turning off without any assistance.  We never figured it out.  

About the same time, I received a voice mail that I am sure was a scam: …a recording saying that ” … if you don’t take care of this matter … then it will be reported to the authorities.”  Now, what “the matter” was, that needed to be resolved, was never communicated. Pretty wild.  

When the waters come, a choice is made about what we are going to do: sand bags? wet-vac?  sump pump? dig a trench?.  If the waters rise, then I will rise.  … I will rise to the challenge.   When melancholy comes,  I have the opportunity to push back. Sometimes I accept the melancholy as an old friend.  And, the melancholy does not define me.

So, there you have it.

 

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4 thoughts on “Water’s Rising

  1. That last line is killer–“Sometimes I accept the melancholy as an old friend. And, the melancholy does not define me.” Such a powerful post. I feel that melancholy a hell of a lot, too, and have since I was in my late teens. Sometimes I feel like the walls are closing in and it’s almost like I have to summon these invisible mind powers to just force them back–force back the imaginary walls….and then tell myself, out loud, it’s going to be ok & try to move on with it. We have a spring-fed creek that runs around our property, it’s a tributary of Prairie Creek so we just call it that. I find myself walking in its waters often, just feeling that insanely cold rush over my feet and lower legs. The power of the flow when it has down-poured recently. A healing force that reminds me to keep going.

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    1. I love your thinking, and your gift of speaking about “all of this” … your melancholy (each sojourner’s melancholy is their own) … and I appreciate your description of how you cope with it. The cold water. WOW. I need to try that. It is always good to read your words: in your blog, and in your comments. Peace.

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