Falling Branch River

On occasion, I have reason to take notice of something other than my chickens.

This morning I took notice of the howling, gusting, wind and sheets of torrential rain whipping against my dining room windows. Yes, the rain ventured eight feet back from the edge of the porch.

Then I took note of the way our normally firm clay soil had turned into squelching mud and mole-facilitated sink holes under my feet as I checked on the garden. Thankfully, I ventured out without shoes. The wet weather is more comfortable without shoes provided it is not too cold.

Then I took note of the way our drive has been completely wrecked by the 2.5 inches of rain we received. Mr. Fuzzy has a LOT of work on his plate...

Finally, I took note of the way the sweetly pastoral trickle that crosses our road had turned into a river, widening, even, into a small lake or pond (depending on your linguistic preference.)

Then I went and did some chicken business.... and decided to explore a favorite riverside location on my way home.

It would appear that the New River decided to 'explore' the road too. Here's what it looked like about 200 yards back up the road... there used to be a bridge there but now it's just a weir, a suck hole, and some wonderful rapids made of flotsam and chocolate milk.