The moment of crisis comes when a second storm rolls in. You watch from the window as the downspout pours gallons onto the roof, sending a river across the concrete toward the drain—only to watch it stop. The water hits the grate, shrugs, and begins its slow creep toward the back door.
So, what’s the culprit? In the kitchen, it’s grease and hair. Out here, it’s the slow accumulation of a gardener’s life: matted sycamore leaves that turn into a waterproof sludge, tiny pebbles kicked up by the mower, and the fine, black dirt that washes off your hands when you clean your trowel. Occasionally, you’ll find the tragic fossil of a wayward tennis ball or a stick that a child posted into the grate like a flag. backyard drain clogged
For a moment, nothing happens. You feel foolish. The moment of crisis comes when a second storm rolls in
The backyard drain is clogged.