What's that wet stuff called again?
Jul. 24th, 2007 04:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stephbgRain. We don't get a lot of it here in Perth, so I'm always fascinated by the Bureau of Meteorology rain radar page. All of the BOM site in fact.
Last night, however, I experienced Orange or "Moderate" intensity rain, and it was frightening. Pretty much the heaviest rain I've ever seen, and the heaviest rating I've ever seen on the Perth radar.
Our house has somewhat unsatisfactory drainage, but I don't often really notice. Last night I stood guard in the carport, occasionally sloshing about to clear leaves from our suddenly pitifully small drains and watch water creep towards the front door and floor-level window sills.
I watched water seep through the eaves from presumably overflowing gutters. I watched water inch towards the back door. I watched water pour down the driveway into the carport, back up and flow around walls that were supposed to have drainage holes in them. I watched air and sand bubble up from beneath the paving and the bricks themselves sink. We've put buckets and buckets of sand under that little patch - I'm beginning to suspect there's a void of some sort under there. Possibly a Hellmouth.
Fortunately the rain passed, and apart from some water damage to the eaves (which I am likely to forget about as soon as the sun comes out, unless I see the face of Elvis or David Wenham in the growing mould), we seemed to have got off lightly.
It did make me imagine what it would be like to watch a real flood rising and rising, or the horror of a tsunami. Not the giant powerful wave of movie history, but the slow inevitable unstoppable power of the rising floodwater *shudder*.
My Magic Rain-Detecting Knee(tm) has been redundantly shouting for attention all week. Ouch.
Last night, however, I experienced Orange or "Moderate" intensity rain, and it was frightening. Pretty much the heaviest rain I've ever seen, and the heaviest rating I've ever seen on the Perth radar.
Our house has somewhat unsatisfactory drainage, but I don't often really notice. Last night I stood guard in the carport, occasionally sloshing about to clear leaves from our suddenly pitifully small drains and watch water creep towards the front door and floor-level window sills.
I watched water seep through the eaves from presumably overflowing gutters. I watched water inch towards the back door. I watched water pour down the driveway into the carport, back up and flow around walls that were supposed to have drainage holes in them. I watched air and sand bubble up from beneath the paving and the bricks themselves sink. We've put buckets and buckets of sand under that little patch - I'm beginning to suspect there's a void of some sort under there. Possibly a Hellmouth.
Fortunately the rain passed, and apart from some water damage to the eaves (which I am likely to forget about as soon as the sun comes out, unless I see the face of Elvis or David Wenham in the growing mould), we seemed to have got off lightly.
It did make me imagine what it would be like to watch a real flood rising and rising, or the horror of a tsunami. Not the giant powerful wave of movie history, but the slow inevitable unstoppable power of the rising floodwater *shudder*.
My Magic Rain-Detecting Knee(tm) has been redundantly shouting for attention all week. Ouch.
