When I was young at the creek, I remember marvelling at the towering trees of all shapes and sizes, their branches stretching out. While children ran by the water, I remember watching the birds glide gracefully above, their wings dipping toward the sparkling water. My sisters and I ran around, playing games, dipping our feet in the cold, rocky water, skipping stones across the surface and jumping from rock to rock. We would soak our clothes as we splashed, laughing all the while. Every visit, my family took countless pictures, capturing moments that became more meaningful as we grew older. My sisters and I would take turns balancing on big tree logs, seeing who could last the longest as they wobbled beneath us, creating long-lasting memories.

When I was young at the creek, the cheerful sounds of birds chirping, children laughing and the gentle murmur of the streaming water filled the air. I caught the scent of my mom's perfume as we posed for pictures, mixing with the earthy aroma of the outdoors. My hands grasped the smooth rocks, which I eagerly tossed into the creek, while I savored the sweet, refreshing, fruit smoothies paired with a small snack. As I sat on the bench, my feet sank into the gritty, textured, moist sand, grounding me in a calm moment.
When I was young at the creek, excitement bubbled inside of me every time we arrived, filling me with energy and joy. While I longed to discover more of the creek, the fear of getting lost always held me back. The crisp air brushed against my skin, both refreshing and chilly, as I took in the beauty around me, Even though I can’t go there anymore, the memories of all the amazing things we did remain vivid in my mind, and I still hope to one day return.

When I was young at the creek, my sisters and I always brought rocks home from the water, whether they were smooth, ragged or speckled. We would paint them with care, turning them into decorations we kept for years, up until now. There was a fallen tree we climbed each visit, racing to the top, balancing on its wide trunk and carving hearts into the bark with sharp sticks. It was our favorite tradition, something we did every time without fail. These moments were always filled with joy, creativity and connections, and it’s something I'll always hold close to my heart