High Tides

High Tides

Here on The Wirral Peninsula, we're surrounded on three sides by water. But never before I have I seen them behave like this.

 

I have lived on this little nook of Britain for my entire life. I was born here, my mother was born here, her mother was born here. Needless to say we've been around a while. On this little piece of land mostly forgotten as Liverpool's shadow, we're surrounded by water on three sides. But, despite that, the severest of weather has always left us alone. For the most part.

There's many theories behind this. Some people think the nearby peaks of North Wales shield us somewhat from the most extreme mood swings of mother nature, others say that maybe we're just lucky.

One thing's for sure though, our usual autonomy has been confiscated somewhat this year. The high tides have broken our defenses and flooded our streets, the waves have roared above our heads ... not nearly to the degree reported on the news but enough to make us ponder the future.

Stu and I stood at the coast and watched these waves, skittering back nervously when they breached the shoulder height walls. The sheer power harnessed in the relentless ebb and flow was both exhilarating and terrifying. What arrogance man has to assume we can control such a force.