The Opinions - ‘I Knew I Should Leave, I Couldn’t Leave’

Episode Date: September 25, 2024

Flash floods plagued Utah and much of the Colorado Plateau this summer. Climate change has made them more frequent and more intense. In this audio essay, Terry Tempest Williams, a writer and conservationist, describes the terrible beauty of witnessing one such flood alone in her home. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

This is The Opinions, a show that brings you a mix of voices from New York Times opinion. You've heard the news. Here's what to make of it. My name is Terry, Tempest Williams. I live in Castle Valley, Utah. I'm a writer. And I teach also at the Harvard Divinity School. My husband and I live in a small desert hamlet in southeastern Utah. and my relationship to the desert is physical, spiritual, emotional. It is home ground, and it's literally the ground beneath my feet. I can't tell you how many times people have come to visit us and they say there's nothing here.

And then the longer they stay, the more they see. So I think the desert commands attention. and what appears to be nothing to the witnessing eye, it becomes everything, and that everything is change. In the Colorado Plateau, the Four Corners region, where we have a central point where Utah, Colorado, New Mexico, Arizona share that boundary, we are in a megadrought. There's something about the contrast, the paradox,

that at a time of extreme drought, we are also experiencing extreme flooding. And that's not new. It's what's created this landscape. The very reason that we love living in this erosional landscape of beutes and mesas blown through stone, through water, wind, and time is also the very reason we may be forced to leave as a species.

And this isn't the first time. It happened with pre-Puebloan people. The difference is the rapidity, the violent storms, and the frequency. And this is new territory. My husband Brooke and I have lived in this small valley for over 25 years, and I can tell you that we have never had five flash floods this close together. The last three storms, I was alone. meaning my partner was traveling.

And so I was by myself with our two cats. How does one prepare for a flood? I don't know that you can. But I know the generosity of neighbors. And my Mormon neighbors called and said, Terry, we know you're alone. None of us can get out. Why don't you come over to the garden

and take what you need? So I walked, you know, like a jackrabbit, zigzagging over to the... their place, which is about a quarter of a mile away, and we pulled beats together. And I can't tell you what that meant in a state of isolation and real fear, and also awe to be bend over with neighbors and just touching the earth and yielding a bounty when everything around seemed to be being destroyed. First comes the wind, and then the clouds gather. the bird's flock, and the rain comes.

And in this case, there was a violent dust storm. The sky turned red. I watched flocks of magpies in our cottonwood tree hurled out of the branches. One that started to fly, it was like watching a shot put thrown through the sky, hurled through the sky. And then it gets still, deeply still. No bird song, no wind. And then other rains come, and you watch what I call from our place the wall. And it's a wall of rain between Round Mountain and the LaSalle's, which are over 12,000 feet high.

And it's that wall of rain that tells you a flash flood is coming. You smell it before you hear it. It's the smell of detritus and damp leaves. You hear it. It's the sound of boulders rolling. thundering. It's like a train coming. And then when you see it, you cannot move. You cannot leave. You know, you hear stories about how dumb were they to stay and watch this flood or, you know, a volcano erupting. I knew I shouldn't be standing there, but I couldn't look away. And then suddenly you just see it carrying everything, junipers, boulders.

you watch waterfalls on the side, and then I watched it just completely explode through the arroyo and flood everything. When I was most scared was when it got dark, and I could still hear the water. I couldn't stay in the house. That was too frightening. Our cats were under the bed,

and I just stood outside and leaned against the wall of our house and just faced the flood and listened. I knew I should leave. I couldn't leave. I stayed until all of a sudden I saw everything around me dropping in, collapsing, exploding, the roar, the smell, the terror. And I ran into the house, shut the door,

and without thinking, I just turned on the stove, put on a pan of water, washed the beach, pulled off their tops, put the beats in the water, and watched it boil as this raging force with such velocity was 30 feet from our home. I took my fork and put the beats on my plate, and I looked and my hands were blood red and shaking. The flood lasted all through the night into the morning, and then suddenly it's just stone quiet. No birdsong, nothing. Just that stillness,

as though nothing had occurred. Within 24 hours, the prickly pears were radiant green. The cotton woods were still holding the memory of water as the wind was blowing through their branches. The tracks were exquisite, these signatures of deer, coyote, badger, the long nails, gripping the mud, the lizards, you know, their tail trails.

There was a whole story just right there before me. They were fine. I was the one that wasn't fine. After the floods, you know, I wanted to walk the path of water. And I was expecting devastation and destruction. It was so beautiful. If you like this show, follow it on. on Spotify, Apple, or wherever you get your podcasts.

This show is produced by Derek Arthur, Sophia Alvarez Boyd, Vichaka, Fiby Lett, Christina Samuelski, and Jillian Weinberger. It's edited by Kari Pitkin, Alison Bruzek, and Annie Rose Strasser. Engineering, mixing, and original music by Isaac Jones, Sonia Herrero, Pat McCusker, Carol Saburo, and Afim Shapiro. Additional music by Amin Sahota. The fact check team is Kate Sinclair, Mary Marge Locker, and Michelle Harris.

Audience Strategy by Shannon Busta, Christina Samuilowski, and Adrian Rivera. The executive producer of Times Opinion Audio is Annie Rose Dresser.