The water arrives fast. The questions stay for years.
If you've been flooded, you don't need it described. The water comes up through the floor and the doorways at once. Then come the months that nobody photographs — the drying, the stripping-out, the forms, the smell, and the small lurch in your stomach every single time it starts to rain.
When the worst of it had passed, we were left with one question we couldn't answer: why here, and why then? The rain that flooded us had mostly fallen somewhere else — on hills miles upstream, hours earlier. The river had simply carried it to our door. It felt like something that should have been seeable coming.
So instead of just bracing for the next one, we started reading. The Environment Agency publishes a remarkable amount of open data — thousands of river gauges, rainfall records, flood histories. We taught ourselves to read the river, and FloodRadar is what we built to make that legible for everyone else, too.
We couldn't stop the next flood. But we could refuse to be surprised by it.