Spate

It rained pretty much all day Saturday, the downpour slacking a bit now and then but never stopping. The town went so far as to put out an automated phone message warning of flooding and providing sandbags to residents who needed them. Luckily we live on a hill, and we've never had a drop of water in the basement even during the worst flooding. (There was the time the water heater died in spectacular fashion, but we couldn't blame that on Mother Nature.)

Sunday dawned bright and chilly and blustery, and I went down the hill to the conservation land to see what the brook was doing.


The walkway that normally spans a boggy place had been rendered useless, so I walked down to the nearest bridge, wondering if it would be passable.


It was, but only just. All the little rocky islands were fully submerged.


As I stood there admiring the torrent, a flash of motion caught my eye.


There isn't a whole lot to go on here, I realize (click to embiggen), but does anyone know what kind of critter this is? Watching it move on land, I thought something weaselish. It can swim, and it doesn't seem to mind cold water.


The rocks at the end of the bridge that are normally high and dry had become a very small waterfall.


A whirlpool spun between the rocks.


This was as close as I ever got to my Thoughtful Spot. It's the biggish rock near the center of the picture; I'd never seen the path to it under more than a couple of inches of water, and I wasn't about to risk a chilly dip.


In the summer this will be a small stream meandering between forests of marsh grass. I once saw an owl in the big dead tree — and heard it, too. They can make quite a racket when they feel like it.


This tree seemed to be uninhabited. I wonder who used to live there.

I hope you enjoyed the nature walk, and that your feet are nice and dry. Mine got a bit damp, but it was worth it, especially as I didn't actually fall in.