Whitman Brook will not die

Last night I dreamed I was driving through my native town of Easton, Massachusetts wondering which of my favorite brooks I should visit before I drove back up to Maine. I chose Whitman Brook.

When I got there, the town was restoring the entire brook into its original channel and I stopped to examine their work. There were caddis flies and cranefly larvae in abundance in the clear, cream soda colored water. The town manager and the others there proudly showed me how the water temperature in the brook was 78 degrees, but I told them that was bad, because it was much too warm for trout, and such temperatures made no sense in March.

Then I noticed that all of the brook's warm water was coming from an old rusty, broken pipe. Just below the pipe, a real brook came in, very small, pouring over a polished slab of black slate, and its water was very cold. I went to tell the Easton town manager that they needed to plant trees along that brook, because it flowed through a bunch of mowed fields and the sun would warm it up and not leave the brook trout any place to stay cool. Then I woke up.

It's a good sign when you dream of stream restoration projects.

This reminds me of walking through Wheaton Farm on Bay Road in South Easton with Chris Daniels and Bob LeSieur over Christmas. We tried to find Spring Brook but we ended up finding Round Pond instead, which is the only natural pond in Easton. I had never seen it before. It's quite tiny ... and very round.