Where I Come From

When I tell people that there is a creek behind my parent's house, I am not sure what image comes to their mind. I have seen creeks of all kinds but none of them hold a candle to the beauty of this place. I was raised here so I grew up in this backyard. I have spent countless hours down at the creek swinging on the ropes, rafting to downtown, picking blackberries, having water gun fights, catching fish and crawdads, celebrating birthdays, exploring junk that washed down from upstream and even some quiet afternoons by myself deep in thought. I literally grew up down here and when I think of my childhood, I picture this place. I especially love the fact that my parents bought this house with their children's childhoods in mind, even before they had any.

When we went home for Easter, I just had to take a picture. I thought about including it in my Easter blog but it really deserves a post of it's own. The creek in spring just screams "come and play with me!" The water level is finally coming down after spending the winter months swollen from the rain and the leaves and grasses are a stunning shade of green. The air smells sweet and a little mossy and the only sounds are the birds chirping and the water babbling through.

Last year Oliver was just a little too young to really enjoy the creek, but this summer? We probably won't be able to get him away from it and I can't wait! I hope that it comes to mean something special to him too.

This picture is the view from both the kitchen table where we ate breakfast every morning before school and from the dining room table where we had many, many family dinners. It is literally the backdrop of almost all my childhood memories.