Floods of Spring

I live on the hill above the spillway of a lake. Here we grow food, we watch buuterflies, and feed the birds. In the woods we find salamanders under the logs, cadisflies under the stream stones, and cliff swallows under the bluffs. Our adventures just outside the front door are endless.

 

And when it rains, the lake floods and the spillway fills, then floods. The clear waters turn brown and the smell of water is replaced by the smell of mud.

 



 

Downstream the roads close and the fields becomes marshes, but on the hill above the spillway we watch the birds come in and collect seeds after the storm.