Today, I’m going to talk about the Mississippi. Of Pennsylvania. By which, of course, I mean the Susquehanna. I felt it prudent to introduce it as “The Mississippi of Pennsylvania” because, unless you live in Pennsylvania where every third street and/or bank is named after the thing, you most likely have never heard of it. (Imagine my shock when I found out it actually begins as an outlet of Otsego Lake in Cooperstown, New York. Yes, the Coop is the home of the Baseball Hall of Fame AND the Coopers of James Fenimore fame but, more importantly, it is also the town I got engaged in. :) Like it’s larger, better-advertised cousin, the Susqui cuts through the heartland (of Pennsyltucky), stifles creative spellers everywhere (perhaps even more so because it lacks a clever song), and, periodically, floods.
Bert and I currently live about 200 yards from the riverbank. Granted, there is an enormous levee in between us and it, but until last week, I thought it was planted there solely to ruin my view of the awesomeness that is the W-B. I was wrong.
Apparently, there is a levee because when the Susque decides to flood, it doesn’t really stop to form a committee about it. It just does it. (I like her style.) I went up on the levee last Friday to take a look around and was utterly shocked. The riverbank where Bert and I went snowshoeing a few weeks before was completely submerged and the water came all the way to the foot of the levee.
The river wasn’t supposed to crest until Sunday, but it gave everyone a pleasant shock and crested half a day early and three feet lower than expected. (Some of the towns around here prefer the view and don’t have levees, so I guess that three feet is important.) I went up to take more pictures on Sunday and the Susque was in full retreat. Today, it’s pretty much all tucked in, although the water’s still pretty high in some areas.
Sadly, all I can think about is how much I miss the snow. Sigh. It was nice while it lasted. Nine more months to go…
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