I'm always up at dawn. Last night was rough, though, with continual heavy thunderstorms, and with Rooki tortured, moving, or trying to dig a hole in the floor or flinging her noise muffs off, I spent most of the night up. Finally around eight, I dozed off for a few minutes when there was the kind of loud banging at the door that only the authorities use. Standing in my skivvies, I opened the door.
Now, I had decided to stay in this expensive park only to wait out an enormous weather system that was approaching. Mostly locals come here, and they all left in the face of the guaranteed heavy rains. A flash flood warning was in place. All the roads in and out of here have dips that are impassable in heavy rain. The weather system was too large to outrun. There was nowhere to go. We were stuck.
The park ranger told me to be prepared to evacuate. The overnight rains had formed a thin sheet of water in the dry creek where I had been taking Roo for her walks. As I type now, it is about a foot deep and moving fast. The ranger told me that when the water reaches the base of the trees to clear out to higher land. We'd have plenty of time to keep from getting swamped.
The immediate challenge this morning was getting Roo out for a walk. Not having agreed to go out since yesterday afternoon, she was ready to burst. After some coaxing during a break in the thunder, she decided to chance it. She did what she had to do, and that took the pressure off. Since then, she's been hiding on the floor in the car.
Only yesterday, I was marveling at the puddle in the dry creek bed in which Roo was standing. It hadn't been full since the summer, and yet, that little puddle—cut off from all other water—was filled with fish. Hundreds of them. In the picture, you can see dozens of them checking Roo out (If you could zoom in on Roo with your nose, you would know what a dog smells like after a dip in a thickly populated fish pond). I wondered if they were just out of luck, or how they could survive. It didn't take long to find out what Mother Nature had planned for them. A little rain and, whoosh, off they all go to join their big brothers and sisters downstream. It must be a fun day for them. Their universe just got a lot bigger.
I don't know if we're going to have to get to higher ground. If we do, it won't be more than an inconvenience. Much better than what happened here last July, the last time it flooded here. The ranger told me that the water came up to where it would have floated the trailer away and filled it with water.
We could both use some sleep.