Flow

As a kid we lived on a street that sloped downhill. I remember spending time playing in the river of rainwater rushing down the gutter of our street. The flow mesmerized me.

I’d spend ages finding ways to dam it up – leaves, twigs, sand, whatever had washed together. I had a whole block in which to trap it in widening lakes before it disappeared down the sewer at the end. Same thing in the spring during the snow melt – the water would erode the underside of the snowbanks and if I stomped hard enough I could collapse  them and dam the stream.

I used to get soaking wet and cold but I was drawn to that inexorable flow – no matter how hard I worked I could never succeed in holding it back. But I did make some big lakes – which made most excellent waves when cars came by.