While growing up my grandparents used to take my sister and I to the Smoky Mountains every summer to this cabin that had a decently sized stream running through the back part of the property. I will never forget the sheer beauty that I saw every summer as the leaves where always a brighter green while there and the color of the stream was more enchanting to the eyes. I also remember just sitting on the back porch swing and watching leaves sometimes dance as they slowly fell into the stream and how the birds just seemed to sing their songs with more glee than anywhere else. My sister and I even swam in the stream and would sometimes turn over the many large smooth rocks just to see if we could find anything beneath. Sometimes we found craw fish and small water insects, and other times we would find absolutely nothing but leaves that were trapped under the rocks and would let them continue their journey down stream. The rocks were sometimes flat and smooth and we would throw them across the water top and see them skip across to the opposite stream bank. But beyond the opposite stream bank we found that there was a horse farm and a view of some large mountains that looked like a Thomas Kinkade painting. Further downstream we discovered this old watermill building that used to grind grain and the wheel part that would spin due to the river, was not working but my sister and I thought it was still cool. Upstream we found out that the stream went under a small bridge which we got to by just wading and walking upstream. Nevertheless after the bridge the trees became so thick around the banks that they would only let small trickles of light rays through and it felt like a tunnel made our of trees that bent over to create the tunnel effect. But it was very still and calm there, that we stayed in that area sometimes for hours. To the left bank though, the tree line faded away about 5o yards out from the stream to a glorious large field of the greenest grass that I have ever seen and if there was not a fence blocking us from entering we would have probably went to the middle of that field since the view was the same Thomas Kinkade painting view that we saw near the cabin. This story, better yet my history, was told so that you the reader could see what beauty in nature I have seen in my life time so far, and I hope that there is many places like that I will see in the days to come.