Summer has arrived and with it the threat of flooding once again.  Our small trout stream was out of its banks after a wild night of thunderstorms. It always amazes me that such destruction can happen so fast in these valleys. We fortunately only lost part of the driveway but I have an eye to the sky to see what the next storm brings. Hopefully this will be the end of it, because many in our area have still not recovered from the floods of 2008.

little stream, big water

We have lost a couple of trees that my kids have grown up with. This mighty cottonwood that shaded our trout pond, and our picnic tree at a bend in the stream, are now just memories.

Molly trying to get the cows to chase her.

This area flattened by the flood is where I buried our sweet old, golden retriever Bear.  His collar hangs in tribute of a life well lived.  Our land is full of the life we have lived and the memories we have made.  We have left a mark here, but as this flood demonstrates all things evolve and change and we have no power to stand in the path of the ebb and flow of this change.