After I drove home from my Monday coffee confab around 3:30 p.m. in a teeming rainstorm, I checked Weather Bug online and could see a massive storm cell was settling in right above us. In fact, it was over the entire west side of Madison where we live and all of western Dane County. It has mostly dissipated this morning after setting a county (and perhaps a state) record for the most rainfall in a 24-hour-period.
When Mark went out during a lull in the rain around 6 p.m., we already had 6 inches of water in our big gauge after only a few hours. Alas, we are going to have to rely on weather service totals to determine how much rain we actually got. Rushing water, soaked ground and the weight of a full rain gauge took its toll during the night. All I could think of when I saw this was Laurie Colwin's book, "A Big Storm Knocked It Over."
My gardening friend Cindy — who lives a little west of us and has the same rain gauge — got 10.45 inches (26.54 cm.), so we're pretty safe going with 10 inches in 24 hours at our house. Nothing as bad as the flooding in the county out in Black Earth and Mazomanie where people were being evacuated. Within walking distance of our house, a group of folks exited a stalled car about 9 p.m. last night and one of the people disappeared in the rushing water. He is presumed to have drowned which is a terrible shock to have such a tragedy happen so close to home. There was nothing but the sound of rain and sirens all night.
It took a number of hours for the water to start seeping into the garage and basement last evening. This was the scene just before 10 p.m. when Mark put my car in the driveway as the French drain was backing up. He managed to get most of the water out of the garage and this morning it was almost back to normal
Everywhere we walked this morning we could see the paths the rain took as it moved through the garden. Most of the damage is mulch or gravel that was moved by the force of the water. This is a path on flat ground which gives you an idea of the force of the rain.
Water flowed down the hill by the Tea House (out of view at the right side), easily moving through the spots where the plants are small and the space is quite open.
It whooshed right over the log edge in obvious gushes. That's Mark down at the west end of the house where water always gets into the basement in a big storm.
When we looked out into the garden as the light was fading last night, we could see this whole area was under water. The next time we looked, it had subsided and the only sign of the storm this morning is more mulch washed down this side of the Tea House slope. Mark is checking the pond depth.
The gravel stream is the normal path water takes if the pond overflows. The pond wall is 1/2 inch lower here to channel water away between our house and the neighbor's. This time it appears the pond may have overflowed at the boggy end and swirled around the little lantern and then down into the stream — a first in the 20+ years we've had the pond.
The plants suffered little damage other than a few modest branches that came down. This Carex got flattened as it was not only pounded by rain, but also likely by rushing water from the path above and the stream below.
When we moved in, this room at the west end of the basement had wood panelling, a raised floor with a vapor barrier and carpet. But when it rained hard we knew water was getting in somewhere behind and under all that construction. So a couple of years ago, Mark tore it all out to figure out just what was happening. We also thought maybe we'd redo the basement but dropped that idea — at least until we figure out if there is any permanent, cost-effective solution to this problem.
The water runs across the floor and under the wall out into the larger basement area. Then it just meanders down to the drain. This is what it has done in every storm or big spring snowmelt for 24 years. It's never been worse than this, so that's why we've never done anything other than raise everything off the floor. If you enlarge this photo, you can easily see the amount of framed art we have stocked piled in this area.
There are still a number of places in Madison that are impassible this morning. Our street looks rather country-like with its big trees but it is really a busy route between two major roads. At the west end is the entrance/exit to the Beltline, the local route to anywhere you want to go. But this morning that is still under water. Since you can also access the Beltline from the road at the east end of our street, that is what all these cars are lined up to do. They have to make a left out of our street and clearly this morning that is not an easy or a quick thing to do. Usually we only see a line of cars like this after the 4th of July fireworks at our nearby park.
We've got coffee, today's New York Times and nowhere to go. So we are going to relax a bit before attacking the basement. We're also going to count our blessings at how little damage we suffered inside or out compared to many people around us and to those across the country who've experienced increasingly common natural disasters.
One last thought: It is great to have digital weather programs that give one a sense of the next week's temperatures or when it might rain. But it is absolutely terrifying to watch a massive green and yellow and orange blob swirling around and around and around on the map right where you live. Wondering when it will end and when it will all happen again . . .
