A wild creature loose in Wharfedale

Otley, West Yorkshire Usually as translucent as clear beer, the water has turned a monsoon brown, boiling with the force of countless tonnes and churning white as it surges under the arches of Otley's bridge

The river Wharfe has broken out of its enclosure. Normally lovely, languorous, and impeccably well-behaved, it has mutated in the heavy rain and now runs rampant through fields, climbs high up leaf-littered banks of ivy and alder, and carries huge tree trunks away with it like twigs in a game of Poohsticks.

Scores of people have come out to watch the spectacle, milling around on roads cleared of traffic, friends and strangers alike chatting together. There is nothing like a bit of threatened calamity to get tongues wagging. Usually as translucent as clear beer, the water has turned a monsoon brown, boiling with the force of countless tonnes and churning white as it surges under the five arches of Otley's bridge, leaving only a tight gap of air. Some houses are already swamped and the water is lapping at the Victorian terraces of Farnley Lane, but its residents seem impressively philosophical - or simply well-insured.