my writing story.

Rock Collector
On fine weekends when I'm near Diedrichs Creek I slowly start to slide down the steep cliff. If it is high tide there is a small dry spot for me to jump on to, to get to the good rock collecting place. I love collecting very strange rocks.

One time during the holidays Mack and I were playing in the creek and he found a metal cable and cut himself; I told him to stick the cut in the cold creek to numb it. Soon we went further up the creek and I found a broken tow rope. I told Mack to carry it for me but in the end, he ditched it somewhere.

We decided to cross a shallow bit of the river. Even though it was shallow it was still trying to knock us off balance. We got over the other side and my feet were frozen but I didn’t care. We planned to cross a rapid but when we tried it was way too hard because the water kept splashing us, it was too deep and the waves were crashing down and we had to scream at each other because the sound of the water was making it hard to hear. We stopped and headed back.

When we got back to the cliff were we came from Dad called out “come on boys!” So we climbed up the steep cliff, hopped in the ute, and drove to nana’s house and had lunch. I might not have found any cool rocks but I still thought it was a good day playing with Mack.