I love a nice summer's stroll, especially when there is the sound of running water.
Usually, this little brook is just that, a little brook ambling from Mt. Rose on its way to
well, I am not really sure where it is headed.
There are no lakes around, and the Truckee River is not a likely destination given the location.
Its name is White's Creek.
I was shocked to see it so full, and raging.
I really shouldn't be, but at this time of year it is usually about one third its current size.
This past winter, our beautiful Sierra Nevada mountains received something like 250%
of the normal snow fall.
There are still very large snow fields on both Mt. Rose and Slide mountain.
So, I guess I should have been prepared for the rushing, crashing water, but I wasn't.
Instead of hearing the soft rustling of the wind in the trees,
the dominant sound in our forest walk was the roar of the water as it raced its way downhill.
The good thing was this, no matter how many mountain bikers, dogs, or other distractions came my way
I could simply focus on the sight and sounds of the creek as my two friends and I walked alongside it.
The running water mesmerized me.
The rest of the world seemed to
fade into the background.
I felt like I could hitch a ride to wherever that water was going.
It was exhilarating.
Simple joy.
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