Flooding Legacies

There is nothing quite as humbling as good ole Mother Nature. As a person who grew up in the Canadian prairies, I thought I had seen "bad weather". Actually, after spending 40 years coping with eight-month long winters; experiencing countless days of "four-layers of clothing required" -30 C; dodging freak hail and thunderstorms; and driving in blizzards where heavily falling snow reduced visibility to zero, I pretty much figured I had seen it all. But, this past weekend, (Tropical Cyclone) Oswald decided to show me his version of subtropical "bad weather". It isn't a version that you see promoted in tourism campaigns. Living in Queensland is not always about sunshine and sun tans. Sometimes, the weather looks like this:

Pictures of the Queensland cyclone/flood January 2013

My youngest turned six this weekend. My little Canadian boy, born on one of those "bad weather" days I speak of above. My winter-turned-summer baby. He is intensely proud that he now celebrates "his earth's rotation of the sun" on a summertime national holiday: Australia Day. He loves doning his "I Love Oz" t-shirt and jovially celebrating his birth in conjunction with the birth of his newly adopted home. 

Birthday boy opening his gifts
(only birthday activity not dampened by the weather)

This year, our Australia Day outing was rained out, courtesy of Oswald. And little did we know at the time, that we would not see the sunshine again for 72 hours. For the next two days, we would be hammered by incessant rain, and howling winds (with speeds up to 70 km per hour). Trees were uprooted, windows smashed, flash floods swept cars from the roads that were, only moments before, safe to travel on. TV images from towns north of us showed tornados reeking havoc. And then came the flood threats. Because over 250 mm of rain had fallen in such a short time, rivers and their feeder streams were overflowing. And all that water was coming our way . . . to our idyllic home on the Brisbane River. To beautiful Brisbane, a city that has not finished rebuilding from the last devastating floods of 2011.

We didn't live here in January of 2011. But we have heard a lot about it from people who called Brisbane home on that D-Day: January 13, 2011. When all was said and done, there was over one billion dollars in property damage and 35 lost lives. The people of Brisbane have not yet finished repairing the physical damage caused by that natural disaster. When we moved to Brisbane in September of 2011, the city was immersed in its clean-up efforts. Stores were re-opening, some insurance monies were (finally) forthcoming, and houses were being renovated. However, in some ways, I think that repairing the extensive physical damage is the easiest part. The un-repaired (un-repairable?) damage is the psychological one, not easily seen but almost always present. The elephant in the room.

On Sunday, we went out to a movie in an attempt to create some (belated) celebratory atmosphere for our birthday boy's special day. We arrived home mid-afternoon, and turned on news reports to get further information about the peak of the storm, expected to slam its full force into Brisbane that evening. The TV news is never about 'good' news. So we had no illusions that we'd hear anything other than dire predictions. I will say, though, that I was unnerved to hear the announcer somberly announce an impending flood of the Brisbane River. We live on the Brisbane river. Our kids go to a school that is adjacent to the Brisbane river. Brisbane is actually centered around it's river, from the entertainment precincts in the CBD and South Bank to the many parks and cultural public spaces. And the news just got worse. By Monday morning (a public holiday in lieu of Saturday's Australia Day), we learned that our property (most likely the yard, not the house) was expected to sustain flooding damage. And that the city would once again be staring down the barrel of a destructive overflowing river and a massive clean-up/rebuild effort. We monitored the water levels of the river all day on Monday. We created "flood protection plans" in our heads.We strategized with our landlords. We accepted offers of "call us when you need us" help from friends, neighbours and strangers. And we waited. We waited all night. Last night, I awoke hourly, walking tentatively to the windows that have a river view, and cautiously raising my eyes to the "unknown sight", hoping that I would see water--in the distance only! By the grace of God, every time, that's all I saw. 

As I write this, I believe the worst is over. The sun is shining today. Temperatures are 31 degrees. And the river in front of our house is right where it belongs-in the river bed. As it turns out, rising water levels are so far measuring far lower than originally estimated. Early news from those working/observing the CBD is that so far, many of the buildings expected to flood did not and actual damage is far less than many dared to hope. This morning, my children got to attend their first day of the 2013 school year, and our life will most likely return back to "normal" very soon. "Normal" until the next act of Mother Nature anyway.

First Day of Grades Five and One -
posing with the Brisbane River :)

One thing is clear. I can now say that I have a better understanding of the legacy of the 2011 floods. There are deep (generational) scars that always take root in situations such as this: where there is such widespread destruction, heartbreak, and loss. Yesterday, I could feel that collective pain; the fear that more loss was coming and the helplessness to stop it. But, the spirit of community, the senses of humour, the willingness to pitch in and help others without thinking of your own inconvenience--these signs of humanity are also 2011 QLD flood legacies. I will declare that in my opinion, Brisbanites are cut from some tough cloth. Because although this Canadian prairie girl thought she had the market on living in extreme climate conditions, she doesn't. I haven't seen it all. Not even close.