Just as I signed up for flood insurance, certain parts of California go under flood watch.
I took my friend C out to dinner for her birthday. We went to Lucca, which was delicious. The drive home was neither savory nor sweet. The winds were eating umbrellas for breakfast followed by rain-soaked citizenry for dessert. As I fled into the safety of my automobile, I knew I was in for a treat.
The drive home was a white knuckle ride. Thousands of gallons of water were orbiting the earth through Sacramento at altitudes of about 10 feet. Or, if that analogy was not sufficient, perhaps the phrase "horizontal horse piss" will convey the experience, if not tickle your alliterative bones.
Visibility was lacking and therefore craved.
I tried to take a photo to capture the moment, and this was the best I could muster.
I could tell other drivers were experiencing the sort of discomfort that could only be carried on the ample wings of impending doom. In storms like this, windshield wipers serve more of a decorative purpose, accentuating the futility of person versus storm.
As for myself, I thankfully remained unscathed. Except my face is sore, mostly from being frozen in this configuration while driving home:
And now I'm safely huddled in bed, very glad to be alive.