Mercy River

The most fascinating encounter I've ever had with water was a visit to Yosemite National Park two springs ago. Water is in such high demand in California, but you wouldn't know it during spring in Yosemite. Water gushes over almost every cliff face and thunders over rocks on its way to join the rolling, speeding, forward driving current of the Merced River (Mercy River, which is a beautiful image in itself.) I can imagine that early Californians saw all of this water and thought California was limitless and for the taking.

We depend on water, we can't go long at all without it. That which we must have to survive is also at times capable of ending our life in an instant. I was awed as I stood close to the waterfalls of Yosemite and rejoiced in the glory of God. I can't help noting that God's mercy gushes forth and pours into our lives filling a river that hopefully flows out to the people around us. May my river never follow the way of the Hetch Hetchy and be dammed up for personal use.

Rivers

Sacramento is a fairly safe place to live. No one ever worries about tornadoes or hurricanes in the Summer, there are no volcanoes close enough to endanger our lives (we'd be lucky to get some ash fall), and the faults of California surround us but never near enough to scare us. The only earthquakes we feel are the rolling waves from big ones in the bay area.

So what are we afraid of here in the great California valley? Water; that which we long for all summer gives us reason to worry in the wet winters. Not every year is frightening in Sacramento, but occasionally, such as in some El-Nino years, we face the threat of swollen rivers bursting out of the levee systems and ruining our homes if not our lives.

The City was built where the Sacramento and American Rivers meet and join on their journey to the delta. Both rivers are moderated by dams, but the dams can only hold back so much water, so the rivers are filled.

I remember the flooding back in the early eighties, when a certain man I know told his family to pack up their bags and prepare to leave home in the event of the creek overspilling its banks and flooding the neighborhood. The thing is, the creek was at the bottom of the hill and the house was almost at the top of the hill. What does living near the possibility of a flood do to the mind? I've never really worried, myself. Maybe its the memory of playing in streets flooded with water when I was very young and the gutters clogged and backed up. When I was a kid I associated flooding with fun outdoors. Now I've seen suffering from flooding, but I still don't seem phased by worry.