"Wake up" the softest whisper. And then more insistent "It's flooding. Wake up!" I was instantly awake but disorientated.
"Is the waterfall running? Is it flooding through the garden? What's the time?"
"The valley!" FarmerBuckaroo exclaimed, almost waking the children. "The valley is flooding!"
"Again?! But we've only had 5mm of rain. We can't handle another flood" I stumbled out of bed, groping for a torch.
"But up country they've had torrential rains" He explained; "Our river has burst its banks" The valley river that had not run in a decade, burst its banks?
"I'm going out to check on the other farms" He said.
"No. You can't - it's the middle of the night" I was talking to my husband's back as he pulled on his boots and grabbed the bakkie keys. He stopped.
"I need to check on the horses." Reality dawned on me. The horses were at pasture in the usually dry river bed. I turned on my two way radio and almost shoved him out the door. It was raining lightly outside. The sun wouldn't be up for another hour. The chilly autumn night made us both shiver. Or perhaps it was the remembrance of the devastation after the last flood in new year 2014.
Last week our valley flooded. For the second time this month. Farmers are still reeling from the first disaster. Our neighbour lost all four of his borehole pumps. Roads have washed away. Border fences are gone. Many are stranded as both exits out of the valley become inpassable in an instant.
The power and speed of the entire valley flooding is shocking to behold. We could only drive the dirt road as far as our immediate neighbours on both sides. Most of the road was flooding. And the river reached as far as the base of the mountains.
But back to those horses. Clever creatures fled into the mountain as the water rushed through the fields. We were unable to get to them for days. Within 24 hours the river subsided peacefully to within its banks. And the horse cantered about joyously for days. People free!
Today, for the first time we could reach them and ride them out. Despite their obvious delight at not having their humans dictating where and when and why, the horses seemed relieved to be ridden out. It was a sublime Sunday meandering across the receding waters on horseback. But tomorrow disaster relief begins for the valley.
