BRANDEN

Something Small
Copywrite © 2003 Branden Davis

And so it came to pass...

I used to watch the rain form small streams running down the street along the curb. I used to build dams in an attempt to end the water's progress toward the storm sewer far down the block. Sticks were my building materials, with rocks to anchor them, and mud to fill in the gaps.

A miniature lake would build up in front of my stickworks but the water would quickly build to a point that it swelled beyond the street side margin of my efforts. I tried many solutions to the overflow problem. The curb side was fine, it was the outermost portion of the dam that failed to halt the progress of the stream.

I hooked the dam back along the stream, but while the pool grew in capacity, eventually my construction would overflow. I built my dam as far into the street as I dared. My mother would not have approved of my splashing out into the domain of cars and traffic. The importance of my work was beyond her understanding. Still, the rain was too much for me.

I would build and rebuild, never satisfied with an overflowing, soggy dam. Until the rain ended, and the supply of water went from a trickle, to cut off, I could never hold back the tide. When the rain ended I was always let down. The competition gone, my game was over.

When did I finally stop charging out to the curb at the first sign of rain? When did I forget the thrill of a chance to try again?