Streamside thru the winter - often beautiful ribbons of sand and fading pools, on the luckiest of days water spilling over rock, and, of course, on the unlucky days good-idea-interesting-small-side-canyons narrow until the cat's claw grabs you from all sides.

I know that the water comes and goes every year, each season, again and again, sometimes more and sometimes less - regardless, it feels like a gift, a celebration, whenever, wherever, we find it!