The Creek That Roared

This is the little river I could hear roaring on Monday night. Usually it is a single stream over by the right bank, though for half the year it is completely dry. I could tell by the debris on the trees it had been at least a metre higher than this. The same river, upstream a bit, changed its course and swamped a house.

In the lead-up to the bridge the water rushed across the road with such velocity it lifted the tarmac off the road and dumped it on the grass verge as though it was bits of carpet. (See first extra shot). It did a neat job of weaving hay on the fences too. (Second extra).