Over the break I walked down to the creek in the woods behind my house. It had been a long time since I had time to do so. I really surprised how much everything had changed since I had remembered it so many years ago. For one, the distance from my house to the creek seemed dramatically shorter than I remembered. Everything had changed from the way I had remembered it. It made sense, now that I am older; the distance was nowhere near as long as I had remembered it. Everything else that was different had actually physically changed. There were very tall weeds in the paths we used to travel. Our old fishing spot just looked like a mud cliff that slid down into the creek. The wooden bench that was so nice years ago was now broken and surrounded by empty beer bottles.
The creek I used to remember, the creek I visited as a kid, was a nice peaceful place. My friends and I, we used to go down on we weekend and fish. We usually never caught anything, mostly just hung out and relaxed. It was a cool place where we use to escape. We felt like we were miles away from home. When I went do to the creek last weekend, that was the creek I remembered. Although the creek has changed for the worse, it will be my memories that I choose to remember, not what the creek has now become.
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