Justin Stone's creekbed is now one year old! I want to thank everybody for the fruit baskets and the cards. ((I can tell you must have written them in your sleep!)) We made it, mom. Pretty soon he will be painting pictures of sunsets in a back yard, a cool glass of tea on a table. Fresh lemon. You are a special bunch of folks, you really are. They grow up so fast! I can still see him standing next to that creek with a crawdad between his fingers. The sparkles in the air and on the water's clean surface. Sun spangled manor. I can still see the minnows flit in schools. Feel the rocks beneath my feet. The world truly is flush with color! Leaves crunch so quietly when they hit the timber floor, and if you lay down and close your eyes you will hear them dropping all around you. Though the gravel they have hauled from the creek banks has done much to change the lay of the land we will always have that hike back to Round Rock. What a swimming hole! We will always have the Rock House. That year the bridge washed out. Arrowheads. Mom, you have found so many arrowheads! That must be a special sense. The Creek Road. They can call it whatever they want to now. Float round belly up. I wish you faith, happiness and love. Float round belly up.

Swinging Holler