We are used to severe weather here. Every winter, trees topple, electricity goes out, rivers engorge, the ocean breaches the dunes and spills into the lake that separates my residence from the sandy shores. There are days when white-caps surge like monsters in mythical stories.
These last few weeks, Lake Garrison has risen to precipitous heights, burying my vegetable garden under a thick layer of soot and reeds and occasional fish carcasses. The Elk, the Sixes, Hubbard Creek, and Floras Creek have swollen and erased boundaries, people have had to evacuate taking what they could with them.
We anticipate this kind of weather for a few more weeks.
Schools and businesses have had to close, roads too dangerous, and electricity out in many places: buildings couldn't be warmed; computers couldn't run.
Highway 101 south of Port Orford suffered a major landslide last week; all traffic to and from Port Orford to Gold Beach is down to one lane and forty five minutes delay. Since this is our ONLY highway, commerce, labor and recreation are all affected.
Supplies and deliveries have to be rerouted, adding extra costs of time and energy.
A few years ago similar storms caused damage to the roof of Pacific High School, destroyed an entire wing, and gave students two extra weeks of forced vacation right after Christmas. Since the roads were inaccessible, nobody left town, and most people volunteered to clear debris at the school.
Moose and elk and deer roam about in strange new places,displaced by rising waters.
I took a short walk to the end of the driveway to pick up the paper yesterday. The paper had not been delivered yet, and I was miffed. When I returned inside, I noticed how soaked my socks were.
I have new respect for anyone who works on roads, transports goods, braves the severe weather.
Those services are most appreciated right now.