The Mysterious Fountain

There is a stone fountain in my memories - gray, with scalloped edges. It has three bowl-like levels - each progressively larger and lower, and the water it spouts is cool to the touch, and filled with peaceful drifting leaves.

The fountain is one of my fondest memories. It is the only piece of my hometown that I carry with me. I believe the original fountain is gone now - torn out and paved over, like so much of my childhood. The fountain only lives in my memories.

Oddly enough, I just saw my fountain again. It graces the home where I attended the party this weekend (see my blog regarding Saber Toothed Sheep). What are the odds?