My fingers freeze
in winter’s cold breeze
as I walk excitedly,
expectantly down…

down a rock path
I know so well
ambling beside
Current River

Grey in the cold
it never gets old,
this bubbling stream
now beside me

Icicles flow
down canyon cliffs
as winter birds rail
over swift river rifts

And still, seeing blue
in the watercress hue,
the river bedazzles me,
stirs up the true,

recalls to my mind
seasons in time
of camping and swimming
and floating sublime

Note: the path in the first picture leads to Welch Spring, a picture of which is below.