Flash Flood

Gary Dan Watts Flash Flood by Richard Relham People who are born in the mountains or have lived in them from an early age have an almost mystical attachment to them. When I was a boy the mountain in front of my grandfather's farm seemed as majestic as Mt. Everest, but with my adult eyes I see it for what it is, a knob, a little offshoot from the main range of the Blue Ridge. Another mountain remembered from my college days is House Mountain, square and massive, standing out from the ranges of Alleghanies. The Blue Ridge Parkway passes behind the Peaks of Otter, two differently shaped mountains which are a landmark that can be seen on a clear day from forty miles away, north, east and south. Mountains such as these are as much a part of the landscape as a nose is to a person's face. The mountain dweller feels compassion for those people who have to endure the monotony of the plains. The winding roads of the hills have a charm that no arrow-straight highway of the flat country possesses. The ever-changing vistas of the mountain country lend the spice of variety. From no two angles is the view of a mountain the same. There is an ethereal beauty about the clouds and mists that hover over the mountain tops; and the shadows athwart their slopes at sunset are intriguing. The altitude of the highlands in summer provides a coolness and a greenness that is refreshing. There is something invigorating about the up-ness and down-ness of mountains and their clear 23 rivers that is lacking in the level lowlands with their sluggish, muddy rivers. The poet Wordsworth was born in the hill and lake country of northwest England, and when, as a young man, he left his native hills for the first time he penned lines that find an echo in the heart of all mountain dwellers: Dear native regions, I foretell From what I feel at this farewell, That wheresoe'er my steps may tend, And whensoe'er my course shall end, If in that hour a single tie Survive of local sympathy, My soul will cast the backward view, The longing look alone on you. Thus, while the sun sinks down to rest Far in the regions of the west, Though to the vale no parting beam Be given, not one memorial gleam, A lingering light he fondly throws On those dear hills where first he rose. The mountain spine that forms a barrier between the Mediterranean shore on the west and the Jordan Valley and the Dead Sea on the east is the main geographical feature of the land of Israel, and the early Hebrews were nurtured in this mountain country. But even before that time Moses had received the Ten Commandments on the top of Mt. Sinai, and later glimpsed his first and last view of the Promised Land from the summit of Mt. Nebo. Elijah 's contest with the priests of Baal took place on Mt. Carmel; Jesus was transfigured on the slopes of snow-peaked Mt. Hermon; and spoke the words of the memorable "sermon on the mount" from the grassy sides of the Horns of Hattin. The attachment of the Hebrews to the mountains are reflected in texts like these—/ will lift up mine eyes unto the hills...who shall ascend the hill ofthe Lord..As the mountains are round aboutJerusalem, so is the Lord round about his people...How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that bringest good tidings. But like the beauty of a patterned serpent who strikes poison into his admirer, so the mountains are treacherous at times to the people who live in them and love them. The clear waters of a mountain stream with its gurgling falls, singing rapids and tranquil pools can become a raging, destructive flood that washes away boulders, trees and houses in its path. No one should build on the banks or a flood plain of a seeming harmless river—but they do. 24 Hurricane Camille was spawned on August 13, 1969 in the Carribbear and moved slowly across the tip...