It happens every time.
No sooner has the Government-of-the-day or the water-authority-of-the-week
declared that we’re in the grip of a drought, than we start to have downpours
of biblical proportions. April showers? No, we’re sitting under something akin
to a monsoon, with rain bouncing off everything, and it seems set to continue
for the moment. And this, only a couple
of weeks after we were placed under drought measures here.
TH was in boy scout
mode when the impending drought measures were announced, and went straight out
to buy a water-butt. Whilst applauding his initiative, I was a little
disappointed to see that it was quite small. To be frank, it’s the sort of size
that makes it a waste of time. There’s probably enough in it to water the garden
a couple of times, and that’s it. However, it was duly installed, and, when I
accidentally bumped into it the other day, water sloshed out of the top. This
either proves my point, or means that we should definitely start to build an
ark, as it’s only been in-situ for about three weeks..
Don’t misunderstand
me, I know we need rain, that the water tables are alarmingly low and that we
may yet all have to suffer further unless water supplies begin to creep back to
normal. However, I am slightly selfishly concerned that Nowhere-on-Thames
could, at any time, become Nowhere-IN Thames if the rains do not abate.
Stranded people in N-o-T having their meals delivered by boat in 1947! Image from Thamesweb
Although the last time
N-o-T actually flooded was in the 1940’s (and the local pub has photographs
adorning the walls, showing slightly damp locals rowing boats around what, in
drier times, is the village green) we’ve had a number of recent close shaves. A
few years ago, the Thames rose far enough to sneak under a tunnel beneath the
road up at the local golf club, and make its way back along the railway lines
for some considerable distance. Apart from giving a rather dramatic display of
sparks each time a train attempted to make its way past, this had the effect of
placing us and our humble abode in the middle of an island in the Thames…It
also spurred TH into amassing an impressive collection of sandbags, “just in
case”, and me into moving all my scuba-diving equipment into one of the
upstairs rooms.
The local level crossing in 2003..
Since then, flood
defences have been built higher up the river. Which sounds good, until you
understand that it’s not we, the inhabitants of Nowhere on Thames, who are
being defended, but the posher, richer people (I might namedrop here, but
Michael Parkinson and Rolf Harris aren’t exactly “A” list..) who live upriver
in their Thames-side mansions. Now, if
there’s a flood alert, we’re not just getting our own extra water, we’re
getting Rolf’s and Parky’s as well! On several occasions, the river has risen
alarmingly, and TH has rushed around checking that his sandbags are still
functional. Don’t imagine that I’m exaggerating the potential impact, or indeed
the volume of water involved. It must be a lot: HM the Q up the road has just finished having a huge
Archimedes Screw installed in the nearby lock so she and the DoE can harness
the might of the river to provide their weekend retreat with off-grid
electricity!
Unless the current
downpours start to ease, I am beginning to think that not applying for any
Olympic tickets may have been a smart move. The rowing competitions may well be
coming from our back garden..
Hello:
ReplyDeleteWell, we can see that your rain dancing has certainly paid off!!As we say, one must always be careful what one wishes for.....
It does seem extraordinary that drought orders and flood alerts are both in place simultaneously in the UK.Still austerity measures and the multi-million pound Olympics seem to manage to be getting along together quite nicely!!!
So true, J&L.. The river close to our house does have a tendency to rise and then stop, just as we're beginning to think we should be worried. A bit the opposite of the economy which seems to stop falling, and then start again, just as we begin to believe we can relax! As I type, the sky is blue-ish and the sun is shining, so I hope I won't need to check the fit of my drysuit just yet!
DeleteI think Jane and Lance have summed it up rather neatly, CB. :-) If only you could persuade the rainwater to sink down several feet, instead of running away into the nearest river, both problems would be solved simultaneously. Much as I love a nice riverbank, there's a lot to be said for living on the side of a hill.....
ReplyDeletePerpetua, I have to walk to the riverbank, and that's just the way I like it! I get a bit concerned when the river begins coming to ME, instead of the other way around. At the moment, I suspect there's no danger. It's a bit like watering a pot-plant that's been left without water for some time: the water isn't (yet) being absorbed by the very dry earth, but I suspect it soon will be and we can stow the sandbags again!
DeleteWhen house hunting in France I was careful to avoid anything near a river....the mere idea of one of those houses under the levees on the Loire used to give me the heebies.
ReplyDeleteBut the last house had the river running through the garden - whopping trees whirling downstream in the February floods and the local sewage station flushed out, leaving the bushes adorned with decayed sanitary towels once everything dried out.
Apart from that though, no problem...the house was on a bluff well out of range of the devastation.
I know what you mean about the first rains just running off the dry ground...it used to take about a week before the earth started to absrob anything.
As it's raining AGAIN today, Fly, I am fervently hoping that both you and I are right about the earth beginning to absorb the water!! We are quite lucky: there are other houses far, far closer to the river than ours, and it takes relatively little for them to have the waters lapping at their doorsteps. And the river is relatively clean around here. Or so we are told. I hope I never have to find out how true that is! After all, David Walliams swam the Thames last year, downstream towards London, and he'd already picked up a nasty disease long before he arrived at our little stretch!
ReplyDelete