The rains came down, the floods came up
By Laura Lee Myer
When it comes to vacations, I’ll pick the mountains over the beach every time. Restful over entertaining. Cold weather over hot. Every. Single. Time.
It’s not that I don’t enjoy the beach; I do, I just prefer the peace that can be found sitting on the deck of a cabin looking out over the mountains.
I’ve been to Disney World several times, multiple Six Flags parks and Silver Dollar City in Missouri. I am a huge fan of all things roller coaster – but, as time passes, I prefer relaxing in the hammock with my Kindle over the long lines of people that come with time spent in an amusement park.
I tolerate the heat but only when there is good central air to go back to at the end of the day.
My preferences for every day life mirror my vacation preferences. Give me calm and peaceful – with a moderate temperature – and I’m a happy camper.
I love my little farmhouse and the acres upon which it sits, but for several days over the past few weeks, the view from my front porch has been more lakeside than pastoral. My cousin’s cattle have not been walking out to the pasture so much as they have been swimming out.
Recent rains dumped so much water on Hartselle and the surrounding areas that tributaries like Flint Creek have been unable to handle the runoff. I should not be able to see Flint Creek from my house, but for several days, I could.
I recently told my Sunday School class there will come a day when we will pray for rain, but today is not that day.
Twice in my lifetime I have seen the waters of the creek not only flood the pasture but also cross the road and come perilously close to my front door. A couple of years ago, after an unlucky motorist ended up in the middle of a neighbor’s pasture after trying to drive through the floodwaters, the county erected a “Warning: Road May Flood” sign.
I’ve got news for you. Those of us who live here know there is no “may” about it.
Last week’s weather brought a different challenge. The high winds blew down trees and powerlines.
We were lucky. While an ice chest that had been on my father’s carport for more than a year is now gone with the wind, we didn’t lose any trees.
That said, there are enough limbs on the ground to fuel a healthy bonfire.
This week I will spend a few more hours picking up the rest of the limbs that litter my property like a giant game of pickup sticks. Hopefully Dad will feel well enough to hook the trailer onto his four-wheeler so we can move them all to the back of his property.
Believe it or not, as long as the temperatures are moderate, it will be a restful way to spend the day.
