Yesterday all of McPherson flooded. My friend Willie had to sleep at our house because his car couldn't make it through the water. By morning, the waters reached the highest my Grandfather had ever seen in the several decades he had lived on Iron Horse road. Willie and I found a mighty barque (a piece of flotsam washed against the edge of a submerged field) and named it the Innavagable. Jumping aboard, we set out for several hours exploring the new world of eddies and insects driven from their homes. Our ship was built of someone's styrofoam hot tub cover that was actually better suited to be a craft of exploration. After we learned how to pilot our ship, my sister Lindsey jumped on. She sat on one end, Willie sat on the other, and I stood in the middle with my 15 foot pole, propelling us through trees, over invisible roads, and across submerged wheat fields. My shipmates used smaller poles to guide us through many trials. When we reached the far northern edge of the wheatfield to the west, we sat back and let the currents sweep us along. When we entered the quagmire of Turkey Creek, we fought to break through the tangled mess of soggy branches, floating logs, and exiled creatures. At long last, our trusty craft lodged upon the shore of our home and we left it to dry in the breeze until another storm might come and again cover the world in water that we might explore the depths of our own latent explorers' hearts