The 500 Year Flood - Wimberley
Imagine a house on the edge of a high bluff, a calm green river below. Trees planted as children line the bank along with 100 year old trees, making for a private oasis. They're so tall their canopies are eye level with the front porch. You've grown up with these trees, they're family. And in ONE night, everything changes.
It's late and quite dark outside as people sleep in their comfy beds. Up stream, out of site, it begins to rain. It pours and the river quietly rises. It rises above the bank, over the grassy hill, covering the trunks of the trees.
It's risen 10' now. The water quietly fills every crevice and nook it can find.
20' high now. Shrouded in darkness, you're blind but can hear a great noise coming from upstream, the sound of a freight train, created by giant river waves rolling and crashing, full speed ahead. The trees are standing strong, trying to hold on as the water gets STRONGER and ANGRIER and WILDER.
An hour goes by and suddenly its 40' high.
The deck and trees begin to drown as the water becomes more cruel, bulldozing through without any thought, feeling or care. The trees don't go without a fight. They SHRIEK for all to hear as they finally crash downstream into the raging current.
ONE BY ONE.
Their screams echo between the bluffs, traveling across your skin, raising the hairs on your arms. A sound you never want to hear. And then you fear - is this water going to wash the house away too?
And suddenly it stops rising, the water 10' from your feet. It stops. And the next day the sun is out as if nothing happened. And the turbulent water has left, unapologetic, selfishly on to the next, never to truly say "I'm sorry." You look in disbelief at the destruction that only a few hours can bring. All you can do is say your goodbyes to those lost, pick your head up and move forward.