There is a tiny brook that wends its way
As it twists and it turns, where’er it may;
And over each glistening stone it brings
To us the rippling song that it sings.
~ Gertrude Tooley Buckingham
This little stream meanders its way through the woodlands on the edge of my town. Sometimes when it rains and rains parts of it spill over into the woods creating a muddy swampy mess beneath the trees. Most of the time though it flows within its banks through its woodland surroundings. I took this image where the stream is shallow and you can just make out the stony bed that lays beneath the water that acts like a looking glass to the trees above.
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