The Creek

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I laid myself, ever so gingerly, back on the sharp rocks.

I had an instant mental image of a sideshow at a dirty roadside carnival with a barker beckoning passersby to witness the amazing feat of a woman lying comfortably on a bed of nails.

I stared up at the bright blue sky. There wasn’t a single cloud in that sky.

Not that I could see much of the sky for the trees.

Some of the leaves had started to turn a bright, happy shade of yellow. Others seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Fall was all but upon us and that they should get with the program.

I started to hear the stream all around me and then, ever so faintly, I could hear the plop as each rock hit the water.

And then I realized that my butt was getting wet and I heard dogs yapping off in the distance and my perfect version of solitude was broken.

Lucky for me, I hoisted myself back into a sitting position as Cara was seconds away from jumping on my stomach.

Imagine what the weight of a healthy three year old would do to an unsuspecting woman laying prone on a bed of sharp river rocks.

Sunday was one of those days from a book.

It was neither hot nor cold. Not too sunny but not overcast. It was one of those days that you remember when you’re 80 and feeble and trying to prove to yourself that you used to have a life.

Or, when you’re 27 and trying to assure yourself that you do things with your kids that they will remember when they’re 80.

Weekend before last, Tucker had taken Cara to a stream near our apartment and I hadn’t gone. I’m sure I had a valid excuse reason but, try as I might, I can’t remember it now.

Ollie and I stayed behind and did something – which I’m sure was fulfilling and life altering since I can’t remember what exactly it is that we did.

Sunday though, Sunday was a day that will be remembered by all.

Tucker carried Caroline over to the bank of rocks in the middle of the stream and I toted Ollie to where Tucker had seated himself and we tossed rocks into the stream.

There was nothing “special” about it except that we were all there – together.

Image|Lee Coursey


  1. Love this post. And love those little moments of bliss we’re allowed every-so-often. To many more for you, Tucker, Cara and Ollie.

  2. A 3yo jumping on your stomach is never pleasant, I doubt it would have been a good experience if she’d managed it!
    .-= Veronica´s last blog ..The post in which I get a little anxious and maybe go a little insane. It’s fun being me. =-.


  1. Amy Tucker says:

    New Blog Post…well…it was from last night. But it’s new to you. heh The Creek : http://bit.ly/nKTLp

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