The cascade of water over the boulders and logs was perfect.  In another spot in the same creek, a thick column of water poured into a pool creating a perfect distribution of effervescent bubbles.

I noticed over the winter, the majority of the Mean Trees had blown down.  This made me a bit sad because the presence of the Mean Trees gave that location a name.  On the other hand, to be left standing, dead, in paradise, unable to partake in life was probably torture for those trees.

The Mean Trees, are a patch of old gnarled trees, probably killed by fire or lightning. Nearly all of them had lightning scars.