When in Houston, you must accept, this is a bayou city. When it rains, and it does often enough you sense it coming, you must accept the water has to go somewhere. It’s flatland here. A young man told me he and his girl friend were ready to move to my neck of the wood where there were mountains on the horizon and not just clouds and storms.
Well, said I, don’t forget that if the money is good and that may mean the cost of living is high. I’m right on both accounts. I hope he doesn’t figure it out too late.
Back to my point.
While waiting on someone to get ready, I sensed the rain. Then I heard thunder, and lightening flashed above me. I jumped back into the car just in time for the zipper in the cloud to let loose with big buckets of rain pummelting to the earth.
For the next four hours…
In minutes, water built up in the yards, ditches, gullies, and other low spots. Greens Bayou filled up 10 feet in a matter of an hour. Streets were flooded on the edges, and freeway ramps were swamped.
Twice I got soaked helping people in and out of the car and storing a wheelchair.. My shoes stayed squishy for hours. Gasp. I actually turned the heater on to dry out!
I didn’t come here for this, but anytime you are in the Gulf Coast area you must accept the fact that what others count as a hard rain is but a sprinkle here. Here…it rains!