Before anyone gets too excited, you should know that the river is a sufficient number of miles and feet of elevation from our house not to threaten us at all. The road to the ski hill has washed out by a little nothing called Deadman Creek. At least it was not Dry Creek, my favorite name to have a flood. Some people are stranded in their ski condos on the other side, but they seem to be dealing with it well. They could have left before it got really bad, but they made the choice not to. At no time were we threatened by the river. Some houses are, but not ours. We love to go and look at it, and in fact that is what my daughter and I did on our way home tonight. Here are the results.
It is good to understand the foundation of the view. This is what the rocks under the falls looked like in July.
These are the same falls tonight, from a different angle.
This boy is dry. If he was there today, he would not be floating away yet, but he would be wet from spray.
The spot where the boy was standing is near the last light at the bottom by the bridge. Note the bridge pier in the foreground with water on both sides.
More foundation of the falls. Note the bridge pier to the left of the picture, standing high and dry.
Once upon a time, we took a walk on the Centennial Trail. We saw some big rocks in the river last fall.
Sunday, we took a bike ride and saw the same rocks. They seem smaller now. Some of them seem to have left completely.
Happy spring.
Pounding tent stakes has not changed over the years, pull it tight and set it at a 45 degree angle.
The nearly finished product:
We also had the opportunity to use an atlatl to throw a dart which looked like a long version of the arrows that my boy shoots in the back yard. 
A tale only a mother could love.
My girl has been doing research about fear and fairy tales and the connections kids make in childhood that they carry with them all their lives. She started building with some cardboard boxes which she taped together to make a display.
Black spray paint gave her a uniform background.
A little house in the woods for Grandmother, or the wicked witch or the 3 bears or someone to live in.
I was allowed to help with the trees and the door and the windows. She did the words and the white paint on the house.
My creative abilities were taxed to the limit, but I found a way to make these trees too. 
We had lots of help from the dog.
There are areas around us suffering from all sorts of flood warnings and watches and actual floods. Our local river is up a bit, overflowing on the trail that we walk and ride on. It kind of gives a new meaning to training for a triathlon. 
I can swim and ride at the same time like I did yesterday. On the way out, I went around the puddle, but on the way back, I went through. I was wearing my sandals, so wet feet were not an issue. My daughter followed me through, then complained about her wet shoes. Silly girl, she should know better than to ride through puddles that are 2 feet deep and flowing. My feet were nice and cool after that though. We skipped this trail, since the peninsula it visits seems to be an island at the moment.
Our house is far enough from the river that we are not concerned with flooding here.