Oh Black Water, Keep On Rolling…

The water was surprisingly murky as it flowed across the tops of my feet. When the water lapped at the bottom of my ankle bones, my toes disappeared from sight. And where I stood on the pavement, I watched the water churn against the lightpost not ten feet in front of me, knowing that I would get knocked down and sucked under if I were to attempt to wade that far. But not being able to see my toes in water less five inches deep was enough to keep me from going any further.

That, and I kept waiting for a severed foot to float by.

Last night, I hung out with Tom. He wanted to poke around the riverfront to see the flood water and I was curious myself, so I met him at his place before heading back towards downtown.

It should be noted that we did see the irony in the fact that we both work downtown and yet left the area, only to return. Since his work shift ends an hour before mine does, we need to figure out logistics.

We parked in a garage where the lower level was nearly submerged in water. I’m bad at judging distances, but I would say that on a normal day the river bank would have at least 20 yards further out. It was mind-boggling how much water there was. Which sounds rather naive, I know, but to see the magnitude of the water was rather humbling. It certainly put things into perspective.

Tom may have organized the field trip, but it was joked that I would have to follow through with the details. Bottled water was soon wished for. And lots of it. It was muggy and hot in the sun, but the moments in the shade were comfortable.

We hiked from the Landing over to the Arch grounds and made our way from the north stairs over to the south stairs. Both the side staircases were closed, but the main steps were closed about half-way down. People congregated throughout the park, the same as us – all looking at the floodwater.

We ate at Morgan Street Brewery, an experience that would have benefitted from us eating out on the sidewalk rather than indoors amongst the “meet market” crowd. The food was good, but the environment was discouraging. Drunk people are not ambiance. Especially for an evening of natural surroundings.

Hours were spent watching the water and I think that Tom and I haven’t had such a meaningful – and low-cost – Friday night. And the night went late, too. Tom and I eat early most times – 5 o’clock or so – then putter about before going in search of ice cream, then calling it a night by 9 or so. Last night, I got home around 11 pm. We just couldn’t leave the water.

I’ve grown up on the banks of the Mississippi River, but generally take the river for granted. The Mighty Mississippi River has been a mainstay in my life since I’ve lived in St. Louis all of my life. I never much think about it, generally taking it for granted or silently bemoaning the fact that it’s not an ocean with beach and clear water.

But last night I was in awe of the power and terrible beauty of nature. And by the looks of the people we passed, Tom and I were in good company.