Summer at the Stream

School had been out for a week but it might as well have been a lifetime. Everyone visiting Mrs. Green seemed transformed. Summer had its tasks and duties but change was good for the soul and Mrs. Green’s soul embraced it. Laughter came quicker, thoughts were deeper, and hope was in abundance.

It had been a wonderful week. Mrs. Green was drawn to the stream on Tuesday. The temperatures soared and the sky held the promise of cooling rain later in the day. The water level in the stream was high and the sound of the babbling brook was too much for Mrs. Green. The chores were put aside and she kicked off her shoes plunged her feet in the cold rushing water and lifted her hands to the sky in a thankful stretch.

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“The water weaving between the rocks and moss danced in and out, creating its own melody. The stream was always cold, the rocks always fuzzy green and covered in moss,  and the current full of glee.”

The stream had a hold on Mrs. Green. The water weaving between the rocks and moss danced in and out, creating its own melody. The stream was always cold, the rocks always fuzzy green and covered in moss, and the current full of glee. This small stream flowed with happiness, and Mrs. Green cherished the moments of skipping stones, wading feet, treasures found, and pure tranquility.

When Mr. Green came home on Tuesday and found the house empty he knew just where to look for Mrs. Green. That night they ate their supper out by the stream.  In the fall and winter Mrs. Green called it dinner, but spring and summer it became supper. The food was a little lighter, the hour a little earlier. They sat side by side and ate blt sandwiches piled high with crisp lettuce and thick tomatoes. They spit watermelon seeds and watched them flow down stream. They talked and listened to all the flowing water had to say to them.

Visitors came in and out during the week. There was an impromptu brunch by the stream on Thursday morning with fresh eggs cooked inside warm slices of hollowed out buttered toast. On Friday night no one would say who started the splashing but everyone ended up soaked, cool and content, eating strawberry ice cream and catching fireflies.

These events couldn’t be planned. They just happened. There always seemed to be just enough food to go around, and everyone felt better when they were sitting on a rock, with their feet dangling in the water, in the back of the lot, near the climbing tree, by the Green’s stream.

Copyright Terri Neagle Donaldson 2015

Terri Neagle Donaldson and Stressfreestories, 2015. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Terri Neagle Donaldson and Stressfreestories with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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