Millington Brook, Adirondacks, NY.
The little stream winds in endless S curves through forest, and often it looks like it is barely moving. I have walked a mile or so of it's banks, through the same woods and on top of the crusted snow that holds my weight, at least for now, early in the day, before the temperatures rise and the white softens. Here, closer to joining the larger Hudson River, it is picking up speed. Two trees fell across some time ago, creating a barrier, a gradient that ratchets up the current. On this bend, I stand on the verge of things moving ahead or staying the same. The choice is not all mine, as the way downstream is harder to navigate. How far do you have to come before there's no incentive to go further? I stand and move, gaining momentum.