When most people walk along a creek bank, they feel peaceful. However, as I walked I heard the sound of stone striking against stone. It sounded like a sort of complaint, almost like an angry sound. In the water, the rocks are always pushed by the moving water. Remaining in one place takes effort. As the stones hold their ground, they’re eroded. They become smaller and smaller. Where did they begin their journey and how big where they then? Where will they eventually end up? As I look down at these stones it seems as if each might have its own identity. Like us, each has a strong connection to the others around it.