The lake’s spillway often has but a leisurely flow of water falling over its concrete body, a minor trickle in the scheme of things that offers nothing more extravagant than a measly creek making its way southward.  Or so it is when one does not account for the usual Texas thunderstorms that can easily flood the area, storms quite like those which came through the night of March 30.

As I walked around the area the following morning, I found the normally meandering rivulet had become something else entirely.  Once still and quiet walkways had become deep meres.  Minor outlets had become raging rapids.  Dry cement dappled with the tiniest of brooks had become a dangerous playground for angry white water.

The transformation could only be called miraculous had it not occurred where such dramatic environmental changes are commonplace.

[I will try to remember to survey these same locations when finally the rains end and our weather returns to something less torrential; I suspect that will not be until this summer—assuming we have a normal summer; when finally the lake and surrounding area reminds me of normalcy, I will do my best to capture some images for comparison; BTW, this is the same weekend I referred to as preceding a weekend full of snow and freezing temperatures; yes, we had major spring thunderstorms one weekend only to be followed by snow and ice the next weekend; ah, but this is Texas, and weird weather is what we do; remember, the weekend after Old Man Winter returned marked the first of five weeks in a row in which we had tornadoes and violent thunderstorms]