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.
