I grew up in highland Creek, which is just east of Toronto. We ran around like feral -- we were free range children. Well, Highland Creek was the creek for us, and it was a dirty creek: polluted, glass, old boots, nasty bits of timber. Occasionally it would flood, it would over reach the banks.
My friends one day were sitting on top of the culvert and Highland Creek was raging under, and they said "we'll give you a quarter if you jump in". Of course, us Donlon's we'd do anything for a quarter, so I jumped in!
I landed on some broken glass, they ran away laughing, I had to go to the hospital, and I never did get that quarter. But I still love water.
My Watermark is Highland Creek, Ontario.