Whenever I watch the streams fill with spring runoff I can’t help but trace the path in my mind.  The water tricking under leaves into tiny gullies reaches a small stream that races over rocks and under bridges to find the river.  The Baraboo river, now near flood stage races east toward the Wisconsin which flows back west to the Mississippi.  The Mississippi pushes south into the gulf of Mexico leaving behind an ever growing fan of silt and sand that reaches out into the sea. The fresh water joins the gulf currents and either flows east or west depending on the season, yet either way escapes into the Atlantic for a ride north.  And that’s just the beginning. It’s pretty amazing when you think about it.

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