The Steam

The Stream

It was the late afternoon. The sun had begun to fall gently from the sky when storm clouds came rolling in on an eastern wind, their shade a light yet oppressive gray. Rain began to form, nourishing the tall oak trees which surrounded the stream.

The stream weaved through the forest as a stealthy serpent, it’s girth narrow and subtle. It was shallow; deep enough only to harbor the gentle and small fish that lived within.

It ran at a steady pace, and was a clear blue. Rocks rest at its bottom, both small and large in size. They were smooth and adorned with vibrant green algae.

The stream was silent and still, yet the falling rain caused ample ripples, the sound of their meeting loud and resounding.

All was at peace.