After the Flood

After the Flood

December 22, 2013

Even from above, at the edge of the woods, it was easy to see the effects of the flood from the previous day.  Though the rushing water had subsided, I could see where the excess water had spread across the creek's flood plain, as it was still dark and very soggy.  I could see that the pond was still filled to capacity and that it was still joining with “little pond”.  I could see a seep that was so saturated that it was obvious it was still draining from the northwest corner of Cottonwood Pond to the creek.

 

I worked my way down the slope for a closer look.  I could see a straight line gouged out of the leaf litter, next to a bend in the creek.  This looked similar to something that happens with meandering rivers, such as the Wabash and the White, except in miniature.  A rush of excess water tore straight across, rather than all of the water following the normal creek channel.  If this were a constantly flowing river with a frequently heavy influx of water, the stream might “choose” to take that straight path until the new path would be the “normal” one.  In that case, the curve in the original creek channel would get cut off.  In a large river system, if that curved, cut-off section held water, it would become an oxbow lake.

If my creek received almost constant rain and plenty of snow melt, would it create an oxbow puddle?

Another thing I noticed was a peculiarity with the root ball.  There was a light-colored, oval area in the middle where the silty clay was dry, but the perimeter was still dark and wet.  I could understand that the part just above the water might still be wet, but what of the middle/  I assumed that the middle would be the last to dry.

But, probably the heavy rains pummeled the outside and soaked in from the edges, and the heavy soil did not allow it to soak quickly toward the center.  The rain must not have come from the west/southwest/northwest, or it would have pummeled straight into the whole face of the root ball.

 

When I came closer to the creek (in my high rubber boots, of course), I could still see the distinct difference in color between the flooded leaf litter, which was pounded to small leaf size and covered in a thin layer of grayish-brown silt, and the non-flooded litter, which was all brown and fluffy, leaf size mostly intact.

 

Here is a closer view of the creek where the straight-line alternate path can be clearly seen as well as the piles of debris pushed up by fast water.  In the creek there is muddy looking line where water was pushing silt along the normal current, and clear pools to the side around the small dam of debris.

 

This is the fallen log which stretches across the creek and alongside the south edge of Cottonwood Pond.  A smaller log caused some obstruction below it.  To the upper left, a new pool can be seen, formed by the rushing water and flooding.

 

Here is a long view of the creek, looking to the southeast.  In this view, it is easier to see how the water came rushing toward the large log, pushed over the obstruction below it, created the pool to the left, then surged forward, cutting the temporary, alternative route.

 

The flood brought more to our woods.

The creek passes through a culvert under our road before it enters our woods.  So, unfortunately, it sometimes brings us unwanted items from elsewhere.

Here is a view of the creek from the other side of the large fallen log, looking northwest.  Part of Cottonwood Pond can be seen on the right.

During dry periods, the creek and the pond appear to be separate entities, but they are part of each other in many ways.  This becomes most evident during a flood.  

 

The power of water was also evident around the bases of saplings.

The seep was still a little active.  It is the most obvious connection between pond and creek.

 The northwest end of the pond had gone over its banks and stretched a narrow finger to the seep.

Reflections on Cottonwood Pond, with the large fallen log and the young, bent Blue Beech seem frame a picture of the land near the pond.

 

The “siltation spot”, and Raccoon prints.  I wondered if the heavy rains had pushed this mud further into the pond.

A view of the pond from the south end.  The “siltation spot” can be seen just above the standing tree at the edge.

The deepest part of the pond.  I wished that I had brought my depth-measuring device with me, in this moment of opportunity just after a flood and between freezes.

The water had no visibility after all the rain and run-off.  Clay particles were well suspended throughout.

Mud has been piling up beneath the root ball, and there were green plants growing there in the midst of winter.  Would Cottonwood Pond begin to support some aquatic or semi-aquatic plant life in the coming year?

 

There were more green plants at the south edge of the pond, but this spot has normally been above water.

On the other side of the log, on the south end, there was a very soggy Crawdad chimney.  There were suitable conditions for this animal.

Here a lovely view of Cottonwood Pond is framed, from the south side, by the large fallen log and the bent Blue Beech.  It is evident where a temporary creek had cut across the edge of the floodplain and surged toward the pond.  A larger open space was created under the log and filled with water as this new creek increased the pond's volume.

As I looked behind me, I saw where this new creek was still tumbling along the lower part of the slope.  I could not recall seeing a stream here before.

 I heard a splash, as if something had jumped into the pond.  It was reminiscent of the times last summer when I would hear frogs jumping.  But, it was another good-sized clod of dirt from the mass of rootlets on t he root ball.  The pounding rain had probably increased the rate of mud-ball-drop, adding more mass to the floor of the pond.  In fact, I noticed a big pile to the left of the root ball, where mud had been sloughing and slumping off of the edge.

 

The slumpy pile of mud was creating more of a dam between Cottonwood Pond and “little pond”, but the immense power and volume of flood water had moved around the hill, connecting the two ponds.

 

A soggy Crawdad chimney, built in the space of a tree base, had been caught in the flood and was almost filled with water.

And here was “little pond”, at the top side of the root ball.  It had swollen so far beyond its usual size that the area looked more like a small swamp.  If it could remain this size, a very different ecosystem could develop.

“Little pond” appeared to be extending to the other side of the fallen Cottonwood trunk.

“Mystery Mammal” would have a much more difficult time going through this space in these conditions (see “Tracking”).

The mud was covered with familiar tracks.  Maybe “Mystery Mammal” had been a Raccoon, after all, but I was not convinced that these prints came from the same animal.

The mud was covered with familiar prints.  Maybe Mystery Mammal had been a Raccoon, after all.  But, I was not convinced these prints came from the same animal.

Worms had evidently been busy in the mud, also.  Many holes covered the surface.

“Little pond” had extended well beyond the fallen Cottonwood trunk. 

I was back to the southwest side, where the new creek had rushed down to the pond.

Mushrooms were showing up in the wetness...

...and some herbaceous plants were beginning to show themselves.

Some see this as a “sign of spring”, but I am not quick to make that prediction.  It is only December.  Life is lurking below the surface everywhere, all winter, and one day of wet, warmer conditions can encourage something to move a little further along in growth.  

But, already we have had a winter storm with ice and deep snow, torrential rains and flooding, unseasonably warm temperatures, and severely cold weather.  I prefer to let things be without imposing attitude, desire, prediction and other perceptions on the situation.

I will just wonder how all of these “weather events” are affecting Cottonwood Pond, and what these differences may bring in the coming year.