The village where I live is located in the Moshaweng valley, along the banks of the Moshaweng River. Except that for the first 8 months of my residency the "river" was nothing more than a dry riverbed with the odd puddle once in a while. Nowadays, however, with the wet season in full-swing, water has been pouring into the riverbed and it currently resembles, well, an actual river.
Loving water as we do, Shaka and I have spent a lot of time in past couple weeks scrambling up and down riverbanks, sticking our toes in the water and generally scouting around. It's been like a Lewis and Clark expedition, as reenacted by the Three Stooges and Beethoven. I'll be trying to gingerly pick my way across the mud when the dog goes wild over a dragonfly and I start teeter-tottering like playground equipment. I haven't actually fallen over yet, but it's a matter of time.
The river was highest a couple weeks ago after it rained for several days straight. It made a nice, idyllic, English country-side scene. With all the rain, there are now tons of grasses and wildflowers along the riverbank. Many of these have been momentarily drowned by the river, but they generally recover. The water doesn't last very long. Even at its highest, it down to mere puddles in a matter of days. Oh well, the rainy season is hardly over, and I expect the river will return.