10/18/10

He walked out along the creek for a while. Something in him cold and humble and complete at the sight of it - the water so clear; its tiny currents converging and diverging to create scars upon its trembling surface. He placed each step carefully, not to disturb the water and cloud it, and he walked along it for a while until he found a suitably secluded place to rest. A tree had fallen there, and it's bark had sloughed off in great heaps now growing moss. Just below, the creek came over a boulder and passed through the air a few feet before crashing back upon itself, and forming a small pool where larval salamanders crept along the silt with their feathery gills bellowing. A log from the felled tree rested diagonally there, one end rooted in the pool and the other against the boulder preceding it. He lay down on it, cupping his hands against the falling water, washing his face and drinking, then just resting. He had no intentions of leaving. Even considered what might happen if he were to stay forever.