We’ve been in cor’n'teen for about a week now.
Thank goodness we live in the country and have access to an even more remote piece of mountain land.
The hubby, Honey and myself hiked and explored it today, looking for signs of the old homestead that once existed there and again wondering about the families who lived in these hills and hollers generations before us. (Don't worry, we didn't see another soul, and we tested negative anyway.)
Times have been rough for many in 2020 though, but times were hard for mountain folk most of the time, I’d say. They dealt with other pandemics and diseases, most of which we don't have to worry about any more.
Every time we are up there, we always marvel at this rock-laid well. You can’t tell in the photo, but it’s about six feet across the top, about double the width of every other well I’ve ever seen around here.
And the well is on top of the mountain! How did someone know to dig a well there?
Did someone “witch” the site with the fork of a peach tree sapling?
Was there evidence of a spring so they knew where to dig?
How is it that we’ve never seen this well go dry, even in years of drought?
Questions, questions!
And this clay pipe?
About three feet of it sticking above ground. Why? What was it even used for?
We also saw pieces of old crocks that were used to store food and piled rocks from the foundation of a home that has been reclaimed by the earth. That’s about all the evidence left on the ridge that there was ever a homestead there. That and a few remnants of fence row.
Seeing these bits and pieces of another civilization is kinda like revisiting someone else's dream.
After we got back home, we drove down to the creek bank and fine-dined on hot dogs and pork'n beans.
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