The creek was up last week from the rain we got and I drove over the bridge on the way to the coffee emporium in the next town.

I almost came to a stop to look at the beautiful gravel that had piled up in a place easy to get to on the creek. I must rephrase that statement. It should have been an easy place to reach, but new six-strand barb wire fences closed the roads that had been used for generations to get to the creek. Yep, roads closed. Wired-shut roads. Can’t get through the road.

Sorry deal sometimes, the way we have changed. That’s my opinion, anyway. Change is inevitable and usually good for all of us. I like the fact we now use a tractor to hay instead of a team of mules, a pitchfork and a big wagon. I like mineral salt - and so do thecattle - instead of the old white block that we hoped would help provide the nutrients needed by the herd. I am proud to sit down in a cool living room when it is 100 degrees outside and watch the TV news. But I still would like to be able to get some creek gravel.

I realize the fellers who have the rock quarries have to make a living and I am all for them doing well. I know the state and county governments need way too much gravel for it to all come out of a creek. But shoot, I like to see some of that white rock on drives and dressing up the landscapes in places. Looks real purty!

It may be that I don’t like being told no by some young sprout that has a doctorate in conservation or a related field. I have a homemade education and parts of it demand theright to haul gravel out of the creek if the owner says it is OK.

Well, fellers, that probably reads right cranky. Sorry, but that is one of the great freedoms we have lost and maybe due to some of our own faults.

Overuse of an action does at times cause some adverse results. We muddied up the water, made it run muddy for a mile or two and I suspect that wasn’t real healthy for the aquamarine life in the aquamarine water. Who knows what the fish did when the rain muddied up the creek.But, natural mud is better than artificial mud!

It is my opinion, and everyone has one, I live in the past on certain given days. I know times are different now; I am different now. My face is different and so are my other parts. But, I still don’t like being fenced out. That was a privilege that I took for granted and now it makes my old gizzard grind hard! Yep, geezers have gizzards!

Bill is a pen name used by the Gravette author of this weekly column.

Opinion, Pages 6 on 11/10/2010