We pretend we are fancy when it rains.

We talk in posh accents, as Egmont Street fills with water, about how lucky we are to “live on the lake.” We chuckle about it as we wade in, water to our ankles, shoes heavy and soggy; straddle the current to get in the car. Watch the level rise as rain falls.

Yesterday the “lake” was very impressive.

Wind blown Magnolia leaves rode the current to the storm drain as oak twigs bobbed along behind. It wasn’t long before the whole drain was blocked and we were once again fancy and living large on our lake front lot.

By morning, the water had drained, the street was filled with debris, more rain was in the forecast, and I was no longer fancy.

I was just me.

I had lost my standing in high society along with my accent and my scepter was now a rake.

I set to work clearing the piles of rain driven debris that had ended up in front of my house.

The neighbor kitty corner to us waved from his veranda.

I began raking the side of my house.
I cleared the storm drain on my corner.
I ventured across the street to clear the two drains on the other side.

At my move across the street, my waving neighbor shifted in his chair. He seemed confused and concerned that I had breeched some sort of barrier and crossed from “my” side of the street to the “other” side.

I cleared those drains then raked the leaves and moss and twigs and sticks from that side of the street as well. I continued the length of the street, well past “my side” in both directions.

My neighbor seemed beside himself with this development and I wondered if I had done something wrong.

Had I broken some sort of “neighborhood code?”

Had I somehow laid out an insult, insinuated that people could not clean up for themselves?

Was I just dumb for doing something that, sooner or later, the street sweeper would come along and take care of?

I had no clue.

But here’s the thing.

Rain was in the forecast.

Rain was predicted to fall.

And rain does not care which side of the street you live on or who has done the raking and preparing.

If the street floods, it affects all of the houses on it. The problem (blocked drain, pile of debris) may not be in front of your house, but the street will flood regardless.

It does no good to draw an imaginary line, to pretend your obligation or responsibility ends on “your” side of things. To think that problems up stream or downstream do not impact you. To think that you are safe in the middle as long as you have done “your part.”

If the water rises for one, it rises for all. No matter how posh or fancy we may be.

Sink or swim, we are all in this together.