I'm standing up on the top of our hill looking down at the old tractor tracks that lead down to the barn at the bottom of the valley. They are overgrown now. Years ago in the wintertime we used to slide down the steepest parts with hayfilled plasticbags. I'm rinsing off something from a faucet, and I see that the wastewater is forming a small stream that rapidly spreads down the hill. I watch it in fascination. I wonder how far it will get. Will it reach the barn? Then I walk down the hill further to get a better look. The grass has grown tall, but the old tracks let the water flow with a steady forward motion. I'm almost at the bottom of the hill when I notice the other stream. Somewhere, from the other side of the stonehedge near the tracks, another, more powerful stream is flowing down the hill. A new stream. It is already flowing with ease down the hill, and ultimately it collects into a pond beyond the barn, where the fields take over. I look at the area that I used to know as a small group of trees and that pond that we always skated on as kids. But now there is no more forest there. Instead all the trees are gone, and I see that the pond has extended itself into a much larger collection of water. And there is more. Beyond the barn, where the fields were - right there under the hill, is a wide stream. Almost a narrow river! The water from the stream running down the hill collects into the larger stream that runs perpendicular to the small stream. I look at it all in wonder. So much has changed. In a way I miss that forest. It was a fairy forest.