Henny Penny, the sky is falling!

With recent weather being as, well, weird as it has been lately, pondering it puts me in a state of unease. Less than one year ago, New York was flooded by a storm surge thanks to Hurricane Sandy. The effects were devastating- subway stations were closed, huge pockets of the city went without power, and damages costs millions of dollars.

Only a few weeks ago, Calgary underwent the same fate, albeit non-hurricane related. This is a city that stays relatively dry, at least compared to its western neighbour, Winnipeg, which is hit by flooding on a yearly basis due to its proximity to the Red River. Winnipeggers expect this every year; Calgarians and New Yorkers do not. And for good reason, too. It rarely happens, so when it does, it's usually a huge aberration and really bad news. (I'm not including New Orleans here because that's more a lack of preparedness than Mother Nature unleashing her fury in unexpected locations).

Now, Toronto's been hit by massive rainfall. Pearson Airport in the northwest of the city recorded 126mm of rain in two hours, more than all the rain that fell during Hurricane Hazel in 1954. I was at work when it happened, and it was truly awe-inspiring to watch. The temperature dropped about 15C in an hour (anecdotally speaking) and storm clouds raced in. By the time I got around to wrapping up a conversation with a customer so I could take my lunch before the rain hit, it was too late. It started pouring, and pouring, and pouring. And then it kept pouring. The rain fell so heavily we had to shout in each other's ears as though at a nightclub. Plants were being knocked about all helter-skelter, downspouts could barely keep up as they let loose torrential gushes, and the deepest water level I saw covered my foot. It wasn't long before the power got knocked out, too, the overhead lights giving a brief flickering warning before they shut off for good.

The electricity was out for over 12 hours, but it was more than a little nice reading oodles of pages by candlelight. Kind of quaint, really, and it made me more than a little daydream at the possibility of having my own Thoreau-esque cabin in the woods and reading on stormy days.

But when I started examining the situation a little closer, that's when I started to become apprehensive. A massive flash flood that occurred ten years after power was last knocked out? Such an event happening to three cities in seven months that incredibly rarely experience it? (Ed. Note: There's also the flood in Holland Marsh in late June) I can't help but think that all the fucking over we've done to the planet is finally starting to catch up to us, and in a big way.

I just wonder if the damage we've caused is irreparable.