The Flood

Toward the middle of September heavy rain came upon the mountains. It started on a Tuesday and a hike up Emerald Mountain had to be abandoned. By Wednesday it was raining harder still and on this day a close friend came to visit for the night. By Thursday morning flash floods had cut us off from the nearby town of Estes Park. The rain did not stop until Friday but by then waterways were so flooded that roads and bridges were rapidly deteriorating and we prepared for a long siege against the weather. Friday afternoon brought the sudden news that the bridge was in danger of washing away and we were ordered to evacuate the area before being cut off completely. We hurriedly packed a few things and drove over the flooded, washed out, boulder strewn road and soon found our only way out of the area over Trail Ridge Road. Upon reaching the western side of the Rockies, we turned south and eventually made our way to the safety of Denver for the next couple of days before she headed back to Texas and I returned to Ohio to visit family while the mountains calmed down.

Through this entire ordeal I was a bit surprised to find what was most concerning me. It turned out not to be what most would expect. What was on my mind the most those wet days in September was not the flood, but rather that person that was trapped there in the mountains with me. Rock slides were blocking the canyons and passes and I was content listening the sound of her laughter. Others were anxiously awaiting news of bridge and road conditions while I was anxiously waiting for my shift to end so that I could be near her again. Food supplies were dwindling but all I could worry about was my dwindling time remaining with her. It seemed as though the very mountains I love were collapsing around us but there, in the middle of a national emergency, I was overwhelmed with a sense of peace and contentment.

Nearly all of us have some special person or people in our lives. These people can excite and calm us, laugh and cry with us, be our light in the darkness, serve as our lighthouse in stormy seas, and stand as our beautiful wildflower that is vibrant with color in the snow covered alpine tundra. They come out of nowhere and far too soon are gone. We are better for the time we had with them and cherish the memories we made with them. We feel a sense of sorrow immediately after we have to say goodbye. When such a person enters your life you must never hesitate to show them how much you love them and how thankful you are to have them in your life. We never quite know from when or where these individuals will come from and thus it’s hard to be prepared for them. In my own situation I have known this person for many years and she has always been someone I have deeply cared about but those rainy days we spent together caused a deeper sense of something within myself.  

There is a song about a mountain man that tells of how the life of a mountain man is a lonely one and though it ought to have been different, the story doesn’t always go the way we had in mind. As I think of this song I can draw some parallels in my own life. Indeed the life of a wandering mountain traveler can be lonely but just occasionally we find someone that joins us for a bit of our journey. Nature had raised a terrible hand upon my home but there, deep in that wild land I journey through, I had found a special moment in my life. The danger is over now but I will forever be grateful for that flood in September of 2013.