Nor in mine. I’ve always had the vague impression that it’s a very small body of water, though.
If you can walk across it with a maximum of two rocks to step on, and a minimum of a single stride, it’s a stream.
Bigger than that it’s a river. Smaller than that it’s barely anything.
I don’t know what a creek is. Or a brook.
A stream is a narrow natural waterway, usually in the mountains. It’s narrower than a river. I don’t call it a a creek (though the terms are often interchanged) because a creek is technically a saltwater estuary (and that describes the creeks where I was growing up)
I paddle Crooked Creek fairly often. It feeds into the Allegheny River at Ford City. I paddle along the bank mostly to avoid the big motorboats.
It’s a New England thing 
When someone says “stream” I think of a strong trickle of water from a faucet.
I go with a flowing course of fresh water that generally exists year-round. Size doesn’t matter.
Sorry, but that’s what how my group pronounced the Wissahickon Creek, a magnificent waterway we Philly boys hiked, swam and fished. So, this is a bias flowing (heh) from the limited frame of reference of this city guy, but a creek was something substantial, but smaller than a river. A stream could be absolutely tiny, but even if it was a bit larger, it was still smaller than a creek.
At least according to Dunbar (principles of Stratigraphy,) ‘streams’ is the generic term used by geologists to describe waterways that carry run-off. ‘Rivers,’ ‘creeks,’ ‘brooks,’ ‘rivulets,’ etc. are used according to convenience. If a stream is plottable on a map, it’s often called a river. If it dries up often, they usually call it a creek. If it’s man-made, it’s called a canal or a ditch.
Where I grew up: river > stream > creek
I’ve always figured a stream you can jump across. A creek, you can’t. Then there’s rivers.
This flatlander from New England did just that.
I first saw the Colorado river in Colorado (further south it gets bigger). Boy was I surprised. I said: “That’s a river? You can walk across it! Back home that wouldn’t even get a name. It would be a stream.”
Don’t worry, though. Just about everything else out west is superior in every way to New England.
Can’t vote because my usage doesn’t appear.
I grew up in Michigan, but my mother is from WV. We fished in the “stream” to catch 6" brook trout. I think one time Mikey, the best among us, pulled an 8 incher out. Boy were they tasty. In places we could step over it, but most places you’d get wet crossing it, and sometimes you could even get wet up to your hip.
It was called that by my father’s family (parents, brothers, inlaws, and their kids, we were all there). Technically it’s probably a spring, but I don’t know if anyone ever followed it to whereever the source was, probably a mile as the trout swims. There was no downstream, as it emptied into Lake Huron. I’ve heard others call it a brook, creek, “crick”, and spring, but never in anyone’s wildest dreams a river. But our stream is a bit bigger than most springs nearby, and I suspect it has more than one source.
I’m interested to learn that some use “branch” to imply size. I’ve canoed on the East, West, and North branches of the biggest river near there.
Literally, it seems to me that “stream” shouldn’t imply size, as Deegee says above.
Measured how? Width? Depth?
A different measure would be more consistent. I suspect flow rate in GPM or L/m would be the best. Unfortunately, it’s hard to eyeball flow rate.
The little brook I mentioned above varies in width from a couple feet to 10 or 12 feet, and in depth from inches to a couple feet (with a few much deeper holes). What does that make it in your classification?
It varies a lot in cross-section, too. Some places it barely flows; others it hops right along, due to this. The terrain is fairly level, gently sloping down to the lake.
Like several others have said, when I hear “stream” I picture something smaller than a creek. Say, narrow and shallow enough that I can cross it in a few strides without getting wet much above the knees.
I’m in the “smaller than a creek” camp. To me, a stream is something that you can probably jump over, or at least splash through without ruining your clothes. It’s not usually very deep or fast running, although it depends case-by-case. It doesn’t dominate the scene, so to speak, and might run through a woods, from a pond, through farmland, etc. It doesn’t have a proper name.
Maybe not a “proper” name, as on any printed map, but they do have names. We call the one “Grandpa’s” and the down the beach “Shutterly’s”, even though both Grandpa and Shutterly are long gone. But I suppose newcomers have different names for them (especially the folks who bought Shutterly’s property.)