As a child, I sat on the banks of my beloved creek beneath a canopy of willows and nibbled on the tangy leaves of sweet and sours. I hid in my secret place among the bushes and picked bouquets of sweet peas and daffodils in the patch of meadow above the creek. Happy times, those childhood days, spent beside the liquid spill, watching the water spiders skim by, looking for crawdads under the rocks and an occasional salamander. I’d scoop up a jarful of creek water and sandy bottom soil and bring it to the house, let it settle, and observe the little creatures that emerged. Finding tadpoles in marshy puddles along the edge and scooping them up was a big day. How fascinating to watch them turn into frogs, then release the critters back where I found them.
Sadly, my creek and meadow were paved over and the trees cut down years ago to make a parking lot, typical of ‘progress’ in America. Later our family moved so that we were near a river, which I also loved. And now, I have a pond on our farm. Being near water is revitalizing, as is communing with nature. Sunday afternoon we visited our daughter, Alison, who lives along a creek with her husband, two children, and their dog. It was a lovely April day and husband Dennis had his camera along. (*Our grandchildren Colin and Chloe playing in the water.)
Creek and river banks in the spring remind me of Wind in the Willows. One of my favorite quotes from the book below:
“The Mole was bewitched, entranced, fascinated. By the side of the river he trotted as one trots, when very small, by the side of a man who holds one spell-bound by exciting stories; and when tired at last, he sat on the bank, while the river still chattered on to him, a babbling procession of the best stories in the world, sent from the heart of the earth to be told at last to the insatiable sea.” The Wind in the Willows
“There is nothing–absolutely nothing – half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.” ~ Kenneth Grahame, The Wind in the Willows