For most of the eighteen months we've lived in our small town the stream we pass on our walk has run dry. On either side of the road there has been merely the hard dirt stream bed.
The recent rains have changed that.
A week ago our local dam was at 4% capacity. Now it is at 66% capacity. It is not a small dam.
There is an amazing amount of water around, and we are all loving it.
The younger children love walking with us to the stream to see its fast rushing mass, listening out for the sound of the moving water as we make our way down the hillside.
We experimented with throwing leaves, rocks, and eventually branches into the water to see what happened, watching as they were caught in the currents and swept into the mess of whitewater.
My brother and I stayed close, within lunging reach, and warned - repeatedly, you never, ever, ever go into flood water, not even your little toes. See, see what happens to the branch, see how it's swept away and then gets trapped on the otherwise of the road. Step back, just a bit further back.
They listen, but are warning are a sideshow to the delight of throwing in their pieces of debris, squabbling over who gets to throw in what.
They don't know it, but they're running a science experiment - working out which things float most, which things remain visible, which things disappear quickly, how fast and powerfully the shallow water moves.
I hope they remember the learning and delight of the water.