Thursday, January 12, 2012
As I stand by the stove, dipping candles, the smell of the warm beeswax reminds me that I am at this very moment, smelling the same smell that some ancestor so long ago in the beginning of this country, smelled. I am doing the very same task, that perhaps my 10th great grandmother performed in Plymouth. A link, a small one perhaps, but still a link, which in this day and age is rare to find. Our lives are so vastly different than even our great grandmothers. Yet, today, as I step back in time with a task so long done away with for most, I bridge the past with the present. A good moment.
It is a silent sort of morning, sitting next to the wood stove in my rocker, watching the birds outside my windo...