Last spring I paddled up Joy Creek. The water was high and I couldn't get far.The cathedral arch of green branches whispered.The noon sun sparkled like stained glass. Last summer I paddled up Joy Creek.The water was lower and I pushed under more of the br...
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Creek Stories
The Creek Without a Name
A tiny dried up creek comes to life after a storm and becomes mightyRight now it’s dry, a bed of stones, but when it storms, this tiny creek roars and rumbles, rushing like a river, twisting and swirling as it comes to life again, awakened by the weather to be what it’s meant to be, its brown green water overflowing its...