The last few months have been exceptionally wet. The Great Ponds have been getting higher than usual. Two weeks ago, the pup and I went down to see how things were, and things were getting wet. The land on either side of the Black Point walkway had standing water. It’s something that we have come to expect every winter now.
Since that visit, well over a half a foot of rain has fallen. In the midst of a strong northeast storm last Friday I went to see how things were. I did NOT take the pup. Things were wet. Very wet.
As I pulled in to what is usually a dry parking area, an expanse of water greeted me. My arrival startled thirty or more ducks, who flew, and fled, my approach. Two dozen canada geese had set up camp on a bit of unflooded ground at the far end of the field. They honked and muttered, but stayed put.
The wind was blowing hard, forty to fifty miles per hour, with periodic higher gusts, gusts strong enough to make a person almost loose their footing. The entry to the path had water over a foot deep. And waves.
The water got deeper and deeper, and by the time I was halfway to the walkway my boots were no longer high enough to keep water out. One boot was suddenly full of cold, cold water. One down, the second to go, and then the other boot was full. What else to do but continue?
The only time I have ever seen as much water down here was in the fall of 2012, when Hurricane/Superstorm Sandy paid us a visit. Water has occasionally been this high in past major storms, but those events I did not see with my own eyes.
(If you want to see some of what it was like during Sandy, put “Sandy” in this blog’s search box….)
In the middle of the walkway I was surrounded by water serval feet deep. Rain hit my slicker so hard you’d have thought the liquid drops were solid.
I stopped at the end of the walkway. I went no farther.
There were whitecaps over the path to the beach.
I’ll come back another day.
Maybe in a month?