On Tuesday afternoon I spent two hours poolside in pouring rain determined that my squad would get in a good session before the tropical low lashing the city intensified into a cyclone. Which is what happened.

I woke Wednesday morning to see that a large coconut palm in my back yard had toppled undramatically during the night leaving me to wonder if the companion palm would go also as the now named TC Carlos continued to hover over Darwin.

I was soon to find that my damage was minor as a wander through my neighbourhood revealed the tree carnage everywhere.

It began outside my front door and continued all along the foreshore.

There must have been 20-30 trees lost just along that pathway. In the other direction the story was the same.

It is chastening to think of these trees, the large ones especially, toppling in the dark of the night, unseen through the veils of water and unlit darkness, and unheard through the unrelenting rattling of rain and the whine of the wind.

This was not true of those who were affected in their suburban homes. Many woke to the crash of a tree on their roof or large broken branches battering their vehicles.

There was a malstrom of frentic activity during the day as Carlos sat and threatened to intensify once again. Cars with lights shining wetly on the roads raced to the supermarkets and service stations to store up. A severe cyclone would mean the city could be cut off from food and fuel trucks for an indefinite time. Schools and businesses were closed. Many at home regulalry posted on Facebook to check on friends and family while the tweets were awash with updates and wry comments. My favourite is one from the local cartoonist, Colin Wicking.

Stupid cyclone lurching around like a drunk who won’t leave the party. #tccarlos

The afternoon was a little more sobering because wind and rain were intensifying and conditions were being compounded by a late afternoon high tide. Earlier in the day I noticed that the entry bridge to the Jingili Water Gardens was submerged by a now aptly named and swollen Rapid Creek

The high tide resulted in the expected flooding and at 5pm my street across the road from the intersection looked like this.

At 3.30 this morning I woke to quiet; no wind, no rain. It was very unsettling but Carlos had unfolded on himself and was no longer a threat. Today has been a muddle and it was not until late this afternoon that I began an attack on the bouganvillea out front which had lost much of its foliage and twisted itself into a barrier against a visit from the postman.

Being a great fan of mail from all parts it was essential that I not dissuade the postman from visiting me. It began raining again while in the middle of this task and I now find myself at 8pm not having gone for a run. I have not missed any other day so here’s to another drenching.