Saturday 13 April 2024

THE BIG FLOOD ARRIVED

As I sit here on my veranda overlooking the Gamka River, I reflect on the past few days and how quickly our beautiful, gentle river metamorphized into something completely different and transformed our environment. The speed at which it happened still leaves me aghast.

Although we measured 36mm a few days before, the downpour that happened on the Monday night was torrential. The wind howled, the raindrops pelted the tin roof and the night sky was dark and ominous. As a result, all there was to do was snerdle in bed. By morning, we gingerly peered out of our windows and saw the rain gauge standing tall and proud, holding 45mm of beautiful rain water. The earth was rejoicing and so were we. Our water tanks were overflowing, the veld would look spectacular in the future months and there were small bits of blue in the sky. We had been nursing our solar system so, as the sun brightened our skies, with full hearts, we decided to visit the Gamkapoort Dam. After an interestingly, spectacular drive, we saw the dam. The vastness of this catchment area blew my breathe away – as far as the eye could see there was water. As we clambered closer to the wall, we could see that it wasn’t full (later we discovered that it was approximately 60% full). On the way home we had heated discussions on the possibilities of whether the dam would overflow with the amount of rain received inland. The end consensus was that it was impossible. However, we were to be proved wrong and by Tuesday afternoon, the water was on it’s way. But we still did not realize as to what this would actually mean.

It is hard to describe the noise and power that comes with a flood like this. Branches breaking, whole trees being uplifted, rocks falling and old vegetation being swept with the current, as well as the din of the turbulent water, kept us awake most of the night. As I awoke on Wednesday all I saw was WATER. It was beyond imaginable. Where once there stood trees and other vegetation, there was a new sound of rushing, turbulent water. It is still unfathomable to think that the water flowed at a rate of 920.17m3 per second over the dam wall filling every nook and cranny, breaking banks, leaving animals scarring for their lives and ultimately running its course to the sea at Gouritz River mouth. For the next few days we held our breath but before we knew it, the river subsided and the resilient trees and other vegetation popped out to show themselves to the world again. The little otter playing in the amongst the broken branches, the kudu swimming strongly across the river to land safely on the opposite bank, the yellow billed duck happily fishing for food in the newly created ponds, the fish eagles and giant kingfishers scouting up and down looking for food and the squelching of muddy boots as we adventured out to explore what remained of our quiet little valley; all remain etched in my memory.

As we begin the mop up operation, I wonder what it is that I can take away from this experience. And I think it is this:

Sometimes what appears to be a destructive and devastating moment, can in fact bring about necessary and fundamental change if you are able to embrace the incredible energy that is generated by these occurrences.

Above all, live in the present moment and be grateful.