A winter’s rose stood all alone in the solitude of the forbidden woods just beyond the opposite edge of our creek bed. Her perfect head glistened, silver drops of water like diamonds hung from her delicate petals. The clear waters of beaver dam creek sang along, while the crisp winter cold rustled through the leafless trees and their bows danced in the wind.
The sunlight played upon the diamonds of the rose beckoning one to take a closer look. With the intrigue of a great gem, like a pirate to treasure, I quickly found my way down toward the creek to inspect more closely. How could a rose be growing this time of year and in a more unlikely place for any rose to grow?
I was so lost in the rose I didn’t hear the tip toeing hoofs of a certain bad little lamb following me. As I got closer to the creek bed this bad little lamb slipped on a sheet of ice causing him to slide into me, knocking my stunned self into the bitter icy cold creek’s water. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t swim and the rushing water took me in. The last thing I heard was the little lambs gasps and bahhhs. … Continue Reading