When I was young I was always fascinated with moving water, but the only thing available was the creek created by the raindrain on the border of my property and the neighbors. I played in this like it was a full-out water wonderworld. This raindrain creek weaves it's way throughout lisbon in the understated beauty of rust-red.

The 'Scroggin ain't bad, but this is where it's at. I took this picture near Nissa's house while I was on a walk one of the many early mornings during which I had given up on sleeping all together. I'm thinking that, for now at least, my policy has become that I will only attempt it every other night.

This sleep-deprived nostalgia is the sort of thing JohnnyLib would want to write a story about, if I'm not mistaken.

Anyways, there's your overly sentimental photo of the week/various period of time. On with it.