Arrastra Creek pitches itself from boulder to boulder. Flings insistent, white arms over deadfall. Nudges against mossy banks. Tumbles down through steep, heavily forested inclines.
The creek is attended by false hellebore, Solomon’s seal, thimbleberry, and all manner of blooming flowers.
You can hear Arrastra Creek from a distance—mumbling at first—blustering as you draw near. And then, as you step down into the attending foliage, the cool, moist air reaches around you. Holds you there.
More beautiful than a rocket to the moon.
Vital as skin on skin.
Posted are photographs I captured of Arrastra Creek yesterday.