In my last blog I mentioned how folks here have been holding their breath, waiting for the fall flooding to arrive – see Fall is Coming (the WIND is here) . The big flood came on Friday evening as a result of a new moon, strong winds, and driving rain, combined with a +11.25′ high tide. This made for many feet of water all over the place, up to chest high in places, sliding along on top of the previously frozen and only slightly thawed land. The school gym was opened for families who needed shelter during the height of the flood and we were able to graciously provide assistance for those in need.
(Above: Water outside our home – October 28)
The next morning we discovered up-ended boats where they are not usually found, loose dogs, missing boardwalks, overturned sewage dumpsters, and drifts of trash all through the village. The Tundra has returned to her regal fall beauty except for the addition of jelly-fish scattered through the grasses and in the ponds. These crystal-like plankton jewels dot the Tundra like gems in a crown – a testament to how far inland and how high the ocean rose. Today, the sea gulls are unceremoniously feasting on them.
(Above: After the flood – October 29)
As I write this there are many things for which I am grateful. I am grateful there were no severe injuries to any of the villagers – despite a couple of close calls. I am grateful for our dwelling which has withstood storms and floods before. And mostly, I am grateful to be witnessing the ferocity with which the seasons change and the stories they bring with them.
This fall’s flood is not the first one, nor is it the second. This fall’s flood is another in a long line of floods told about for the past 4,000 years. Living on a land which has experienced this recurring cycle for so many years is comforting, even though the weather and its upheavals is not. It is reassuring that people can say, “First comes the wind and rain. Then comes the freezing. Then the little thaw and then the flood. After the flood then comes winter.” After how many times this has happened, it is part of the story of the land, the story of the people. And really, that’s the part that many do not recognize; that the story of the land IS the story of the people. They are not separate and as a guest in this story, I am grateful to be able to play the part of witness to something which is much older and bigger than my lifetime.
(Above: The freezing – October 22)
(Above: A little thawing – October 23)
There is the uncomfortable knowing that the drama has changed, and is continuing to change, in the past few years due to warming. The flood on Friday was, “The worst anyone has ever seen.” The cycle is changing and no one is really sure how that will affect the story or its outcome. Will it return to how it has been for the past 4000 years or will it be a mystery to discover? Perhaps the liturgy of the weather cycle and when winter comes will change, perhaps the knowing about what comes next will not be as sure, or as insightful. Perhaps, with the warming of the Tundra, people will not be able to live here the way they have always lived. I wonder if there is a construct for the new part of this story. I also wonder if we will have another flood this evening….
(Above: The Graves at sunset – October 24)
Currently the wind is blowing HARD! The rain is coming DOWN! And the tide is coming IN. This is the same story that just happened two nights ago, so we will see what happens next.
In the meantime, I am grateful for the generator which ensures we have heat and lights. I am grateful that our weekly baking is done so we will have bread to eat. I am grateful that my rain gear is ready and I am rested in case we’re called upon to assist in providing shelter at the school for those who are flooded out of their homes. I’m grateful to have renewed my first aid card before leaving Renton (Thank you, CD), and mostly I am grateful to bear witness to the changes in the land as it is happening.
(Above: Kipnik at Sunset October 13)
Next Time: Life and Its Surprises