The flood probably crested sometime yesterday, at levels greatly reduced from predictions. Of course, we are grateful. There is no flooding in our neighborhood at all and even downtown, where predictions ranged from five to fifteen feet of water, it's merely a wash over the road. (That's not to say there aren't people dealing with several feet of water because in some areas close to the rivers they are.)
Thursday night we meandered through downtown. All the businesses along the harbor had been emptied of merchandise, boarded up, wrapped in plastic, sandbagged.
Only Captain Sandbag was left to watch over the Maritime Museum, greet gawkers, and offer rides out of town.
Next door, on the Harborwalk that runs along the waterfront, a lone saxophonist played jazz in the darkness. It was so eerie and sad.
The floating bridge has been dismantled and we saw the convoy of Guard trucks from the bridge-building unit heading south last night, home we assume. This afternoon the shelters in schools will be closed and soon the aqua-dams along the bridges will be removed and closed driving lanes opened. When that happens we will be heading to the beach to give thanks for the backside view of all things Florence!