River Mist

 

An early riser in Martinsville this morning would have looked outside and said, “Oh, it's foggy outside,” and they would have been right; for Martinsville. If they tried to extrapolate from that to the rest of the state then they would have been mistaken, however. Although the fog was thick in places it was solely associated with bodies of water.

I first encountered it in the Beanblossom valley, then in Martinsville and on up IN 67 for as long as the highway followed the River. I went up US 31 and don't recall any more fog until I got to the Wabash, which was shrouded in mist though not nearly so thick as that in the predawn darkness along the White. Then it was up and over the hill to the Eel River which was misty too. By the time that I'd gotten to the Tippecanoe it wasn't so much misty as hazy, except for the wisps still rising off the river's surface.

Speaking of rivers I don't have to tell you the water's high. Surely you've heard about the Army Corp of Engineers blowing up the levee in Missouri? I was just down in Evansville, on the Ohio not far upstream from its confluence with the Mississippi and the town of Cairo, IL, the town they were trying to save. The river was higher than I'd ever seen it before. Parts of Evansville were actually flooded. I mean there were houses and vehicles sticking out of a new lake. They had a huge pump going in the area where I delivered and water was bubbling up out of one storm drain then running back down another, which I can't quite figure out. On the approach to the bridge to KY the water was so deep that the current of the Ohio was tugging at the sag in a power line.

The Beanblossom is high too, of course. Her waters have spread into the fields along Old 37, higher than I ever remember seeing them. I haven't forgotten my little adventure; neither the terror nor the beauty.

I had to take IN 10 from I 65 over to US 41 while it was still raining. “Oh shit,” I thought, “what if it's flooded? Surely they'd have a warning at the interstate if it was, wouldn't they?” I was nervous until I saw another truck coming the other way, and was still nervous. IN 10 wasn't flooded but it looked like the Kankakee had claimed a few houses along US 41.

And I hear the sirens' call of that moonlit night. I want to go back. It's a little like standing on the edge of the Grand Canyon and wanting to jump.