The Spring Melt

If you'd asked me before I went what I thought I'd love most about living in the mountains of West Virginia for a year, my answer probably would not have been "proximity to water."  But, as it happens, my little house straddled a little creek, which, come the Spring melt, would be loud and rushing and full of minnows.  I miss that creek, more than I miss most everything else.  I don't know if there's a way to engineer a creek-under-a-house, but if there is, I hope someday to find it.  Until then, I'll settle for gazing at these photos of lovely, watery yards.

For the record, Universe, when I say "watery lawns," I will also settle for "the ocean."

photos nabbed from Cup of Jo.