floods

He said, "It's not going to hit us. It's passing north of us. Brooklin is going to get it."

But the sky was so very black as we looked out the windows at work yesterday. The wind was kicking up and there was lighting.

"Believe me," he said. "Brooklin is going to get it, not us."

At lunch time, the sky was positively ominous, but the barbecue out in the hospital court went on. I had my veggie burger lunch and went back to work.

But then the rain started to bucket down. And then, so quickly, it was over. Then the rumours started trickling in.

"Taunton Road is flooded. It's blocked. Firetrucks are there. Vehicles are stranded."

"Ritson Road is flooded." I pictured all the low spots near creeks and rivers that I'm acquainted with around this city.

"Yeah, the man was just standing there, looking at his house. The tree fell between the houses...He was just standing there, looking at his house. The tree smashed in the corner of his roof and tore off the eavestrough..."

By the time I was finished at work, the rain had stopped.

As usual, I walked through the OVBG on my way home. When I got to the gardens, I realized I'd have to make a detour because the formal gardens were flooded. I wondered if I would be able to cross the bridge!


looking down into the formal gardens from McMillan Drive

looking southward from the path on the east side of the bridge

looking northward, toward the formal gardens, from the path east of the bridge

looking westwards

looking northeast, towards the formal gardens

looking eastwards

Today, I went back to have a look, hoping there would not be too much damage. There is obviously some debris that marks the top reaches of the flood.

The formal garden's plantings are intact, although some of the logs that make the raised beds were shifted and will have to be put back into place. Some soil has washed away. The steps were also dislodged by the flood waters. Silt has muddied up the pathways and covers some of the plantings.

I talked a little with one of the park's gardeners today. She said she spent some of her morning today lifting tiny rainbow trout back into the river. They were splashing about, stranded in the puddles left behind when the flood waters receded. She hesitantly hoped for a little, gentle rain to wash the mud off the flowers...

This is our rainiest summer on record, I believe.