It's amazing that something so essential to our lives causes no small amount of problems.

Throughout the entire summer we've been mired in a lingering drought that hydrologists say actually has its roots in the early part of the decade.

Whatever the cause, folks throughout the Upstate find themselves forced to conserve water or being asked to voluntarily cut back on their use of a natural resource that's generally abundant but, ironically, in increasingly short supply on a regional level.

While Cherokee County residents haven't faced mandatory restrictions they've seen the effects. Some firefighters have noted throughout the summer an increase in the number of wildfires caused by dry conditions. Others, like farmers, have seen their costs triple for things like animal feed and some have had to look outside the region to find the hay needed for their horses or cattle.

This past week, however, can in some ways seem like a slap in the face as much as a blessing.

Growing up and working in a river valley for most of my career the sight, sound and effects of raging water are all too familiar.

My parents' then new home was practically destroyed by a flood caused by Tropical Storm Agnes in June 1972 and I was born just after the waters receded to reveal several feet of mud covering the entire valley floor and every surface to which it could latch on.

Perhaps that's why I suffered from childhood asthma. Constant exposure to dust and mold can't be a good thing for a newborn's lungs.

And every few years, the Susquehanna River that flowed through Northeastern Pennsylvania would give everyone a reminder that it, not man, was the one who was in control.

I personally never needed much reminder of that.

The fishing was perfect when the river level gauge in Wilkes-Barre City measured a foot and you could wade most stretches of the river with ease, as long as you knew where the deeper holes and faster currents were located. We always knew the river could still bite you if you weren't careful and the river seemed to claim an angler or two each year even when it was benign.

And twice in my newspaper career I had to cover mandatory evacuations of the entire river valley because the river came close to topping its levees, which measured 41 feet, in both 1996 and 2006.

The first of those valley-wide evacuations came in the winter of 1996 as blizzard conditions piled up the snow. I was sitting in an office with the emergency management director of my old county just as he made the decision to tell everyone to pack up and move to higher ground.

I'm trained to be passive and pensive, but the ominous river crest projections for the icy river sent chills up both our spines.

Luckily, the projections were just on the good side of inaccurate. A day later thousands of people were allowed to return to their homes.

The old managing editor who got me started in the business came up with a simple headline for our next day edition. The front page simply said: "Thank God!"

It seemed fitting then and it still does today.

As I listened to the rain coming down here in Cherokee County on Tuesday evening into Wednesday morning, it brought back a lot of unpleasant memories.

It was clear that the rainfall from Tropical Storm/ Hurricane Fay wouldn't be well received. How would the parched earth of the Upstate handle five, six or even eight inches of rain?

Would it soak it up like a sponge or deflect the water like linoleum?

Standing beneath the bridge Wednesday on Old Chester Road that spans King's Creek, it was easy to see the results. The raging creek had uprooted trees and sent them crashing into the pilings that held the bridge aloft. One by one, tree branches and logs continued to crash and lodge into a wooden dam that nature had created. The bridge will be closed for the foreseeable future and while no one could say exactly how much it will cost to replace, figure $1 million into the equation and you probably wouldn't be far off.

Miles away, a Gaffney family that had never before experienced any flooding problems awoke Wednesday morning to find water lapping just inches from their doorstep. Their car was partially submerged all the way up to its headlights, and their air conditioning and heating unit outside the home was under water as well. Both the car and the heat pump were likely destroyed as neither worked after the water receded.

To get their children to school, the family evacuated them through a side window of their home.

Yes, we need rain and lots of it. One hydrologist said recently, in a serious tone, that we could actually use six months' worth to replenish the ground water table in the Upstate.

But Tuesday's rain came too fast and too hard.

Thanks Fay, we didn't need that.

And now comes word that Gustav, regardless of whether it's a hurricane or tropical storm, is about to bear down on a Gulf Coast still reeling from Hurricane Katrina three years ago.

I hope that a Gulf Coast newspaper will be able to print a simple front page headline after Gustav passes through.

If no lives, livelihoods or homes are lost, they can feel free to write, "Thank God!"