I don’t know how many snow flakes it takes to form a drop of water on a willow leaf before it drips down onto the forest floor or how many drops must accumulate before they form a rivulet which becomes part of a larger stream. I do know that little streams burble, gurgle and dance over rocks and logs to merge with other streams to eventually become rivers.
We dam the rivers to create reservoirs and divert the water through massive generators to produce electricity to power our cities and factories. We divert water to irrigate the farmland to grow our crops. The water that doesn’t evaporate in the hot sun returns to the river.
The river, much to busy to enjoy anyone’s company, flows past laughing children and cooing lovers on its way to the ocean. The water slows and widens as it merges into an ocean that has been receiving the flow from rivers since time began.
The river water loses its identity in an ocean that is too large for us to measure and our initial drop of water may reside there for an eternity. Legend has it that water evaporates from the ocean and returns to us as a snowflake that lands on a willow leaf before it drips onto the forest floor.