Jan 3, 2007

Broiling Rapids, Foaming Cataracts

Outflows So when I said yesterday about broiling rapids and foaming cataracts on Kedron Brook, I wasn't so much exaggerating as experiencing some form of clairvoyance it seems.

I made the mistake of drinking a cup of real coffee last night about 10 o'clock, the kind that makes your hair stand on end and create strange odours in the boy's room. Normally, that is to say for the previous me, this wouldn't have been a problem but over the past few months I have cut down somewhat on the old caffeine intake, so at 1 o'clock I woke up needing to ablute and couldn't get back to sleep again.

I rooted around in the dark kitchen for crisps and subconsciously I think I must have wanted barbecue, as it took four packets to sate my nocturnal appetite. I then set to reading my current book (J.G. Ballard) and raised a metaphorical eyebrow (Nicole proudly boasts that she can do it in real life) when it started to rain outside. I metaphorically raised the other when it started to really hammer down.

At five thirty when the dogs did their habitual "time to get up" scratch it was still raining.

When the phone rang at eight thirty and I heard James' voice in the receiver it was still raining.

Nicole had had to get a lift home, or had at least accepted the offer of one.

At nine thirty when Nicole went to bed it was still raining and I was pondering a day in.

At ten thirty it stopped and we chanced our collective arms on a walk down the brook.

Which was frankly amazing. Gone were our chunky rock bridges beneath a sliding torrent of water which much have been chugging along at a good twenty miles an hour. Where previously had been rocky crags which you could easily step across were now either slight dimples in the flow which betrayed the existence of objects beneath, or, dare I say it, and getting back to the point, broiling rapids and foaming cataracts which hurtled over and around the boulders, creating that strange kind of backwards surf.

Not even the three days of rain we had just after Christmas had produced anything like what we saw.

The dogs dipped a paw in, drank a bit, but very wisely wouldn't venture further.

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