stream birdmad consciousness 010125 ... pilgrim Never the same Each moment changing Ever descending Rearranging Cutting bedrock Smoothing stone Winding Restless Going home 010201 ... mcdougall I used to have a stream in my back yard. It was a lot of fun. My brother and I would spend days just walking up and down it. In the summer time we would go swimming in it, and in the wintertime we would look at the ice. Every now and then we would find a creature in the water, but mostly it was empty. There were always footprints in the sand on the bank. I remember seeing deer print once, and thinking, "Wow, I didn't know deer came this close to our house." My friends and I, when we were in middle school, would make forts in the trees and pretend that we were the guards of the forest and that we had to protect the forest from intruders. Just past the stream lay the largest urban forest in the United States. The stream was my gateway to those woods. The towering pines and the mighty live oaks, the occasional magnolia and dogwood filled the rolling landscape with beauty and mystery. Oh how I miss them now. 030124 ... user24 input/output. associated with stack. somehow. maybe. 040812 what's it to you? who go blather from