Like dreams, small creeks grow into mighty rivers.

YOUNGBUTTS ETC 016

Bell-Birds
by
Henry Kendall
(1839 – 1882)
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By the channels of coolness the echoes are calling,
And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling;
It lives in the mountain where moss and the sedges
Touch with their beauty the banks and the ledges.
Through breaks of the cedar and sycamore bowers
Struggles the light that is love to the flowers;
And, softer than slumber, and sweeter than singing,
The notes of the bell-birds are running and ringing.

foto –dinsey creek tweed river nsw 2008

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