wet

the creek is no longer a raging river. it's now just a tumbling stream.

because of some fish and game law, we don't have a footbridge, we have a wash--a flat piece of concrete built over the creek so that we can drive across. when the creek rises during a rainfall, it flows, mmm...washes over the bit of concrete. and sometimes the flow turns into a full-on bloody torrent.

the landscape has changed completely. rather than a creek bed full of beautifully colored and shaped rocks, there is a large flat space of ugly mud, moon dust. small boulders have disappeared, trees are gone...from a charming woodland scene, it now looks quite barren.

i stood on the dry edge of the wash watching the stream flow over, wondering if i could cross in my sneakers to get the mail. most parts looked quite shallow. rather than going back in to put on my wellies, i went for it and got my effing shoes and pantlegs utterly soaked. and after i crossed again on the way back, the mailman stopped to deliver more mail. sigh