yes this is a second post of the day.... I know two in one day right!? go me! (does this make up for the times I slack?!) LoL
This one is for Adam over at tuttletree.... I eluded to a story based on one of his photos and thought I'd let him out of suspense... although the likelyhood my childhood story kept him in too much suspense is low I figure I'll still share so here's to you Adam!
When I was little we used to go to Westminster MD to see my "poppy" (my stepdad's grandfather), I would say about a few times a year. He lived on this HUGE farm... there I learned to love, and then later hate horses. Learned to pick apples from a tree, rode on some huge farm equipment and tasted the most fresh water I've ever had in my life. We would hike way out behind the house, past the farm into the woods to a stream where water flowed from the mountain. We would find the perfect spot where it was constantly moving water and fill up some containers and drink right from the stream. The best place we found was surrounded with trees deep in the woods with beautiful trees, and spots of light poking through. It wasn't unsual to see a deer or two which we could get pretty close to if we tried really hard and stayed very patient. It was beautiful. I just wish I'd been into taking pictures, as a matter of fact I don't remember EVER taking a picture one when we went there to visit. The only ones we ever saw were ones that Jake (I can't remember if/how he's related) painted. They were beautiful. So now I know that my writing and story telling isn't up to yours and actually writing this brings back lots of wonderful memories, and sad since the farm was sectioned off and sold when my poppy died and is no longer the beautiful place it once was. I hope you get how the stream hit me so profoundly, if so then my story with some rambling did it's job.