Editorial

September 9 2026

After the flood

More than 200 millimetres of rain fell on parts of Cape Breton Island over the weekend. States of emergency were declared in Inverness, Richmond and Victoria counties and the Town of Port Hawkesbury. Thousands lost power, and one woman died during the flooding.

Only a short drive away, Guysborough took its own beating. By Sunday morning, 126.4 millimetres of rain had fallen near Mulgrave, while three sections of Hwy. 344 had utterly washed out, stranding some residents and threatening public safety for all.

The facts are grim enough. But storms like this raise the kind of questions people ponder in the long dark night, when the rain will not stop and familiar assurances that life will begin to return to “normal” soon enough don’t cut it anymore.

Is this the shape of things to come? Is this what our world, our lives, our days look like now?

Last year, much of this region was dealing with extraordinary drought, failing wells and the fear of fire. This year, the rain came in volumes capable of overwhelming roads, culverts and drainage systems. Too little water, then far too much.

One storm does not explain climate change, and climate change does not mean every season will look the same. But it would be foolish to ignore what increasingly severe weather can do when it meets rural roads, aging infrastructure and communities with few ways in or out.

Preparedness is no longer something governments can dust off only when disaster strikes. It has to be part of ordinary municipal and provincial work: roads, culverts, drainage, emergency communications, backup power, staffing and plans for reaching people when normal routes fail. That means learning from every washout, every flooded street and every emergency call, then spending money before the next warning arrives rather than after the damage is done.

This weekend offered evidence that this thinking is taking hold. In Guysborough County, emergency responders checked on residents cut off between washouts and had identified an alternate route if needed. Crews prioritized a new culvert at Steep Creek to reopen Hwy. 344. In Antigonish, town staff prepared for the worst, patrolled streets through the night and escaped serious infrastructure damage.

Redundancy, under the circumstances, is not a bad word. That does not mean building a second road beside every first one. It means knowing the alternate route, knowing how isolated residents can be reached and having the people and equipment ready to restore a critical link when the usual way in or out disappears.

Residents certainly seem to understand what is expected of them. Antigonish officials thanked people for respecting the storm and limiting their travel. In Guysborough, residents stranded between washouts stayed put, had supplies on hand and told emergency responders they had everything they needed. They listened, anticipated the risks and acted accordingly.

We cannot know exactly what the next storm will bring, but we know enough now to stop pretending the old assumptions will always hold.

If this is the shape of things to come, then preparing for it can no longer be abnormal. It has to be our new normal.