It started raining on Tuesday around 4:00 p.m. I could barely see ahead of me as I was driving down the highway, so I stopped at a gas station and bought a Bit O’ Honey candy bar to wait until the sky cleared enough for me to see the road. The attendant asked me when the deluge was supposed to stop, but I had no idea until I checked the weather app on my phone.

Pelicans enjoying the high waters.

“Not until Saturday,” I answered. Water in Louisiana is not an unusual thing. But twenty inches of rain in the span of forty-eight hours? Our rivers, bayous, and lakes – not to mention pumping stations – can’t handle that much extra water.

The lake rises past the bulkhead.

Bit O’ Honey long gone, the rain continued to fall in sheets, so I got back on the road and continued home and hoped that the forecast was wrong. Unfortunately, the prediction was correct. It stormed continuously until Saturday afternoon. Many towns flooded in northern Louisiana, and I know all too well how those people are suffering.

Our boathouse nearly floated away, but thankfully, our house was built 100 feet above sea level – and about 150 feet from the usual shoreline.

Boathouse under water.

Humans were not the only ones running for higher ground. Red ants – the bane of our existence all summer long – attempted to create an island using themselves instead of dirt. I’ve never seen anything like it!

Ants desperately trying to survive the storm

Then as suddenly as it began, the rain stopped on Saturday, as predicted. The yellow light of evening fell upon the landscape in a feeble attempt to dry it out.

Soggy landscape

I told Norm, “Spring is going to pop once this is all over.”

Tulip tree embraced by camellias and some others

Just like that, here it is.

Tulip Tree (Japanese Magnolia)

Tulip trees (what everyone else calls Japanese magnolias) and red bud trees revealed their wares, alongside the camellias, who are not quite ready to say goodbye to winter. Neither am I, frankly.

Red bud tree that I planted last year

Winter is my favorite season. She’s not so cantankerous – not down here in the bayou state. But I’m not greedy and can share my life with spring, albeit begrudgingly.