A Creek Runs Through It

 

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There is something magical about our big rock. It is not the first big rock, and isn’t even half the size of my grandparents big rock, but it is as crucial to our summer days as sunshine. No matter how hot it gets, down in the shade it is comfortable. Put even just your toes in, and everything is cool again.

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Miss Mess digs and splashes and explores while I read or knit or both. The dogs cool their bellies and then nap on the banks.
Walking to the mailbox become a half mile journey as we side track across the bridge and through the woods. I’ve started packing snacks and a water bottle, knowing we will be down here at least an hour. But I get more steps in, and she wears thorough a small fraction of her boundless energy.

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The running water, the singing birds, the chirpping tree frogs, even the toddler questions blend together to the most wonderful music, and my hands, heart, and mind are at peace.

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