Hey there, peoplefriends!

Look where we are, another whole month into summer.

Despite serving on a jury for alllllll of July, I've done a decent job of working my way through the bodies of water. Get in the ocean--check! Get in a swimming pool--check! Get in a hot tub--check!

And here's one that wasn't on the list: Get in a storm drain. Rushing with water.

Partway into the trial the judge gave us a four-day weekend, so I decided to drive down and visit my cousin Andy + fam in San Diego. Andy, who subscribes to this newsletter, was determined to expose me to water. We snorkled with sea lions. We paddle boarded. Lalala.

But what he was most excited to show me, at night, was this spooky storm drain that starts in a kind of gorge near his house and runs for a mile underground before emptying into a river. I think it empties into a river? We didn't get that far. You see, we went into this storm drain right after the "Super Historic" storm hit California, bombarding us with rain.

There was water rushing through the tunnel, only ankle deep at first, but swift. I had to take off my flip-flops or they would have been carried away.

The water got deeper as we walked, admiring the graffiti done (if I had to guess) mostly by skaters. There were many odes to drugs/ska.

Did I mention one of the flashlights was out? Just as we entered the tunnel, one of our two brand new flashlights flickered and went out. No amount of banging would rouse it. As we walked further and further into the tunnel, I kept trying to prepare myself for the second flashlight to fail us.

The water kept getting deeper. And swifter.