Sitting on the front porch the other afternoon, I heard the laughter of kids playing down in the creek. That brought back a lot of memories.

Pack Creek runs through our property down at the mini-farm. Mill Creek is just north of Pack Creek. They are both bordered by acres of jungle: willow, Russian olive, cottonwoods, tamarisk and lots of green grass. Though almost impregnable, it is a different world. Mill Creek remains pretty much open, thanks to summer floods which keep it scoured out. Pack Creek, a much smaller stream, has underbrush right down to the water. They join forces right at the bottom corner of our property for their final dash to the Colorado River. Pack Creek rarely floods.

Along both sides of the riparian way, numerous springs come to the surface, creating mini-swamps.

There are lots of nooks and crannies down there, and it has its own smell. The odor of decay is not unpleasant, and wildlife abounds. Deer, coyote, raccoons, skunks and fox can be found almost all the time. They occasionally leave the creek bottoms and visit us interlopers, along with an occasional mountain lion. We enjoy the wildlife and wild birds that populate the creek bottoms all year long – even when they feast on our fruit, vegetables and flowering shrubs.

When I was growing up in Moab, I was rarely indoors. The creek bottoms, and the big red hill to the north were too inviting. I usually spent a good deal of the spring months down in the creek exploring. It was amazing how fast a day could pass down there. Frogs, snakes and toads were everywhere. When it got too hot, there was always Mill Creek to cool off in, and you could catch an occasional fish: catfish, sun perch and, once in awhile, a trout.

Creek “runners” had to be cautious during April and May. Runoff from the snow melt in the La Sal Mountains raises the creek levels to what some may consider a dangerous level.

But mostly the creeks are there to enjoy.

We own the land through which Pack Creek runs. Our property adjoins other parcels of private land on all sides. But we don’t “own” the creeks. They own themselves and will do whatever streams do. We just let it happen, even though a previous owner of our acreage once fenced the property and used the grassy bottoms for livestock grazing. Those fences have now been covered with sandy silt, flooded out or tangled up in brush and trees. We won’t replace the fences.

When we first bought our property, I visited with the late Carroll J. Meador, who owned a home on Main Street acreage about where Pizza Hut now stands. “What are you going to do with that creek bottom acreage,” Carroll asked. I told him we were just let it go natural and not worry about it. “That’s smart,” Carroll said. “If there is one thing I have learned living along a Moab creek: Water runs downhill.”