Hubris, and the Water

We didn't see it coming today.

We've watched on the TV for years, watching other people swamped in the brown currents of an angry river that broke free of it's confining banks. We watched, and we laughed. There was something humerous about watching other people sitting on their roofs, hugging their knees and watching the water swirl by like an oft-beaten child watches an angry parent pace. After all, it couldn't happen to us.

Today, we stopped laughing. Furious winds brought thick black clouds, laden with moisture. Our already high rivers seemed to recoil away from the clouds for a moment, before the sky opened.
And poured.

And will continue to pour through tonight into tommorrow. For the first time in over 5 years, Southern Alberta has been issued a general flood warning for all major rivers and tributaries. Both the Bow and the Elbow are expected to exceed their banks by early tonight. Homes have already been evacuated. Roads have become lakes. Citizens, in their unfamiliarity with the element of water, have been taken aback by the sheer force and effect. Suddenly, they are the ones, sitting with their arms around their knees, watching the water rise. It's not so funny when you're the butt of the joke.

I'm safe, on the top of a hill in a poorer neighborhood. I'm safe, while those in some of the most expensive neighborhoods, built on the floodplane, are now forced to leave their homes. I somehow feel that the contractors never told them that there was a normal floodplane, and the 100 year floodplane, washed by the waters that not even the Resevoir can hold back. Somehow, I bet they thought that it wouldn't happen to them.

Never say never, and never laugh when the waters rise.