Champagne waves spuming the sea wall and houses behind.

Dog down the street turns out to be a seal pup. But the floodwater’s not deep enough and it throws itself back into the pink-tinged harbour.

Sunset returns, now the clouds have broken; reflected by so much water, more glorious than ever.

Inland – if that’s the word – lush green acres outnumbered by limitless grey lagoons.

The expanse; and the expense.

Then a dry patch where builder Sam Notaro has defended his self-built £1m house with five foot earthworks. Red brick pile and a band of brown earth throw a ring of orange into the surrounding floodwater.

Prime minister David Cameron pronounced this ‘a biblical scene’ when he helicoptered into Somerset. But Cameron is no deus ex machina. His last-but-one predecessor famously didn’t do religion, and Cameron can’t do biblical.

Years of shirtsleeves, matter of fact; conversation not oration. Now Wellington boots and a warm fleece. Because Dave will always be on your level, OK?

Water’s rising but Cameron cannot find it in him to offer a moment of transcendence – the prime task of a Churchill; occasionally Tony Blair. Amidst the ‘biblical scene’ in which he is clearly only ankle deep, he fails to minister to the people of the Somerset Levels.

A 30-something woman has rolled up her jogging bottoms in order to wade through flood water and escape her ruined home in Yalding, Kent.
Top half: careworn face focused solely on getting out of here. Thick fleece and an anorak over it. Make-up? Don’t be silly! Clutching a plastic bag (passport or hubby’s Christmas present?) with blotched hands (maybe there’s something toxic in the water).
Knee high: staring out from underneath the rolled up joggings, her bare legs are fashionably tanned; slim, trim and ready for the beach. This is Home Counties womanhood, more used to holidays abroad, commuting through the Garden of England and sometimes the beauty parlour.
Meanwhile Prime Minister David Cameron, in action man garb of pullover and wind cheater, stands like King Canute at the village Post Office facing a rising tide of residents’ complaints.