The Little Canadian Stream

I have had fun again, evening fun, when the meal as done and there was time in the day left to go down to the Little Canadian Stream.

I don’t know how many times the bed of that stream as been changed; probably as many times as a child with a shovel has stopped by and had a dream about it.

We took down a hoe tonight and some sand toys.

Everyone found a different space to work in.

Alice found the circle of sand and Betty and she made sand castles. 

Miranda worked to bring a tributary of the stream, back on course, up high by the snake grass and the flowering dogwood bushes.

I moved stones into a straight line – not a particularly beautiful architectural feature, but that seems to be what my body wanted to do: either throw small stones out of the circle of sand, or move big stones to make a bank for a stream.

There is no dream for that stream that the next person walking along the beach hasn’t changed.

When we left there were some tributaries near the snake grass and flowering dogwood that now joined the stream.

And is a small pool for the minnows, which we shall catch tomorrow.

Arta