Where the Wild Things Are

I'd like to say that this is a river in the middle of the wilderness and that we frolic in nature all of our days. Truth be told, it's a tiny man-made creek behind our suburban house, no more than 12 inches in width and complete with mysterious black plastic tubing running the length of it. But she doesn't know that. To her, these are rapids to be crossed, explored, stomped in. The little beast conquered the river that day, my friends. And she was muddy and wet from head to toe.

It's good to be wild.