Soggy Miami

Miami has been the land of tourists, beaches, sun, and fun, but not this week and likely next week. I cannot say I was not warned. I read about the flooding in Brickell in 2022. I knew what I was getting into by moving here.

This is the first time I’ve seen a tourist boat almost empty.

Six months ago, my daughter and I were on the way home when flooding began. Once the water height reached the bottom edge of my car door, the internal alarms began to sound. We were thankful to be only a few blocks from home, where the elevation rises thirty-eight feet above Brickell.

This weird weather, however, can be nice. On Tuesday, I took a walk to a doctor’s appointment. The jogging trail that circles Brickell Key was relaxing without people. The rain stopped, and I enjoyed the stroll around the island.

But it’s a bit weird without people. Imagine these photos with dozens of people walking, jogging, taking their pets out for a stroll, and visiting with each other on the benches. That’s normal life here.

There was no wind, no rain, and no people. It was one of the best walks I’ve had in Miami.

When the rain started, my umbrella and I decided to see if Racoon Coffee was open. It's a coffee truck across the bridge in the parking lot behind the Presbyterian Church, where a large area is set aside for permanent food trucks.

Two others braved the rain. In an ordinarily packed garden area, I got to sit for an hour alone, watch the drizzle, and enjoy my breakfast. (Ok, people from Vermont, Pennsylvania, New York, Massachusetts, Michigan and Wisconsin. I can hear you laughing at Miami being afraid of a little rain. Give it a rest.)

Why am I writing about a little (A LOT) rain in Miami? We all need a wake-up call—and soon—about our climate problem. I don’t want to live where I have to drive an SUV with a snorkel, but that is where we’re heading. I’ve commented in previous posts about why we are constructing dozens of buildings in Miami, and none of those buildings seem to take in the rising water that will affect their lower levels.

Miami seems to be attempting one last real estate party before we all need boats to go to the grocery store. Very few people here take public transit, and the number of cars is excessive. We need congestion pricing for those cars downtown and an above-ground transit system with trains that extend westward. It is impossible to get from Brickell to Doral in a reasonable amount of time using public transportation. Yes, we have a train system above ground, but it doesn’t go far enough for people to use it effectively. My realtor warned me before we moved, and she was right. I had to get a car despite not planning to purchase one.

Yesterday was more than a bit unnerving. As I waited for my husband to come home from the boat, I received a notice from the emergency management system every hour. It began with a flood watch, followed by a warning, and then harsh warnings every thirty minutes. The warnings were increasingly extreme, demanding that people not drive unless it was an emergency.

And then I-95 was closed. By text, I helped my husband navigate the flooded parts of downtown Ft. Lauderdale until three hours later, he arrived home. For several days, I have watched extreme flooding videos from all over Florida—it isn’t just Miami.

I expect this type of weather in June. I know Miami has flooded in the past, and I hear the long-time residents say the flooding is “normal.” I’ve lived in a hurricane zone most of my adult life, so I expected this. But seeing water bursting fountain-like from manhole covers on 8th Street with a hard rain shouldn’t be normal.

Sometime during the week, the storm was labeled a tropical disturbance. To me, it was a typical day with thunderstorms. Will every storm now be officially numbered and named? We will return to normal in July—well, maybe a little hotter—probably a LOT hotter. And the next time I need a car, will it be a Land Rover Defender with a snorkel?

Over time, those of us who can move inland will do so. The creative will invent something financially out of reach for most of us to protect the Lamborghinians from the rising water and the weather for those who stay. What happens to those who cannot?

We all need to get ready for what’s coming.