This isn’t the first time either; now, they have grown back again for a third round. Sometime, between one wheelbarrow and the next, the old brain kicked into gear. What if I am fighting against what the Creator has decreed a new path for this little wet weather creek? Would not be the first instance wherein I tried to second guess something bigger than me. Every neighbor up and down my road scurries around like the little ants we are fixing up their little section of the anthill. Me too, I guess, since that little piece of heaven down there I call mine has rocks all in my way. What kind of joke am I to bump heads with the universe? It is probably better to realize that, at least to flooding in my pasture, the Earth has re-decided its path as to raging water. I won’t, after all; my pathetic human nature tells me I’m smarter than a bunch of rocks. Some ego, huh? Wiser than nature in all her thunderous glory. Ah well, someone has to do it.