Yours Truly nearly began this wind-whipped day with two concerned (near-hysterical) phone calls of high flooding down in the Middling City's historic Old First Ward, where YT owns a bunker of a building.
One of the calls reported car roof-high waters, broken ice boom, general wild west chaos.
So, being YT (who, amongst other things on Catastrophe portion of the C.V., not only drove through Hurricane Bob of '91 in Maine, but co-crafted an evacuation strategy for a summer camp staff and campers after driving with Nancy M. to the camp - we'd vacated for a public grammar school where YT got the school's generator going by jumping it with her Nissan's jumper cables - the morn after to survey the awe-inspiring damages, like pines sheared off halfway up ... or down), brushed off the hysteria for a drive down. Sipping on a grande Starbucks.
One of the callers discussed - no yelled - about the dangers of driving through a puddle and it could actually be much deeper and YT could be swept away in a current. I should add that I am thrilled to have Concerned Callers.
Actually drove down to the water's edge to make some images of Nature's Power overtaking an arbitrary, human-made boundary.
YT saw nothing.
There are incredible swirls of snow creating white-out moments.
Traffic lights are swinging like paper lanterns.
Stray cats and dogs, YT posits, need ballast, and YT would like to create little sandbags for their ankles.
I digress, but YT has no stunning flood images.
No currents to report.
Just reports of winds that whip around a Subaru lending for a white knuckle ride.

Riding it out, Love.