I remember when I was a kid the creek was filled with water. I used to stare at it for hours, throw pebbles at it and watch how a distorted image of myself was slowly fadding away. The green water swallowed them and responded with little bubble sighs, as if a miraculous creature was about to crawl out of it, grab me by my legs and drag a screaming and swirling little girl back to its hellish lair. I was afraid of its waters, that I might drown and my body would be carried away for miles before anyone could even notice that I was missing. Little that I knew that the creek did not have such strong currents. Nevertheless, it had an attraction force I could not resist. I followed the leaves in their motionless dance on the water surface, describing circles, as if caught in a ritual older than the world itself, summoning unseen and silent water spirits. Noisy frogs popping their fat eyes out of the water attempted an approach but suddenly stopped at the sight of this intriguing stranger in her little dotted dress, with her curly soft hair caressing her fragile shoulders, wondering why on earth would she let her little fingers rest on their water, their home, their sanctuary.
This eerie creature was moving back and forth along the creek bank, pausing every once in a while to listen to the noisy silence of the surroundings, suddenly turning around and expecting to be facing an unknown force that would knock her down and punish her for having invaded this sacred space. She was protected, she could hear them whisper.
