Flash Floods
Rick Riordan is now famous for his mythology series, but before that, he was a middle-school English teacher and mid-list mystery writer. Over and over, I’ve bought — and given away — the novel Big Red Tequila. I might have the details wrong, but I’m sure it was that author, and his earlier works, introduced me to San Antonio and its weird flooding. Think it was part of that book, but I might have the novel wrong. I’m sure it was the writer and the series, though. Plus, I remember asking him one time, “You really drink Big Red and tequila?”
Geography, topography, soil, erosion, and porous limestone capping the underground structures? Growing up, in Texas, it was a popular ad/slogan/tagline: “From the Country of 1100 Springs.” Part of this will date back to pre-history, as this was a rich and diverse nomadic population for tens of thousands of years. Two images come to mind, the sheriff’s department line, “Established 1731,” and “Bexar County under 9 governments.”
The old adage was the city’s plan for streets was laid out by a drunken burro, and the association of drunken burros taken offense.
Flash Floods
Literature and lore aside, the geology and topography is simple, this is a drainage side for the fabled Hill Country, and as such, look at the high water marks, it’s prone to flooding.
Each time it rains, there’s always a news byte about a high water rescue. Recently, a flooded creek claimed a number lives. Right here, in town. The warning, “Turn around; don’t drown” is very real.
At least three times in Austin, I saw the hundred-year flood. To balance that out, I also saw Town Lake with no motion in the water, dreaded drought. Deadly algae choking the life out of the calm, still waters. High water and low water.
The nature of the seasons, when it rains, it can flood.
The rain keeps falling.
