High Water

On Sunday Benny and I left church early, exited via the side door of the church hall. An usher standing there warned me, "Pretty high water." I wondered what he meant. Asked if there'd been significant rain while we were in church. He said that an unusually high tide brought the ocean up around the building; this happens a couple of times/year; as a child he'd lived across from the church and he always loved high water time although his parents didn't appreciate a basement full of brine. I looked out the window and sure enough, the street flooded up over the curb and into the park. So I took off Benny's shoes and socks, rolled up his pants. Since I wore old sandals, I kept them on. We waded into the water which at one point rose 2/3 of he way up to my knees. I drove very slowly and carefully, to Benny's disgust. He wanted me to create a wake like a boat. Benny thought it was wonderful that the church temporarily became an island. He said, "Wow. We're almost at the beach." I thought it would be comical to stick around and watch all the well-dressed people come out of church, remove their shoes and wade, but we had to hurry to the Art Walk.