a town called E.

By Eej

Water, so much water



We're still under a flood warning - which I have extended to our basement where at the very lowest point a small strip of water is now visible. It's toweled off and hopefully that will be the end of it - I do not want to deal with the whole sump pump misery. It has stopped raining, finally - except it's changed to flurries and hail. My poor daffies are out in all their glory, and nothing to be out for: it's barely above freezing.

I braved the hail to stop at the dam that connects the South and East Branch of the Paw Paw River to Ismons Pond and Maple Lake (a map might come in handy here, but the Blip one doesn't show rivers). The narrow wooden bridge separates the high part and the low part and balances over where the water thunders into the lower pond. I stood on it, well aware that there was not a whole lot keeping me from being swirled away. I didn't stay long :)

The little sloop in the distance, in front of the restaurant, has been busy cleaning the bottom of the lake. So busy in fact that they are now in their second year of the cleaning. Granted, it's a sizeable lake, but how silty can it get when most of the lake, except for where it used to be river, is knee-high? A random guy I encountered last year (Our conversation ended abruptly when he asked: "Soooo, uhm ... do you live alone?") told me the cleaner-uppers sell the silt they take from the lake. Which is apparently big business.
I have to say; after watching the tiny boat bob furiously in all that wild water I feel that it's not a getting-rich-while-sleeping-on-the-job kinda deal.

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