We went venturing on a long hike through 300 acres of pristine forest on Sunday morning in search of a sugar-bush holding 1000 taps. We never did find the grove of sugar maples, but we did find history.
On this beautiful mountainside, a homestead was thriving. The stone walls, impressive. The fields, perfectly square. The stone well, still in tack. The water trough still bubbling fresh spring water.
The foundations crumbling, while trees now stand strong and tall in their kitchen's place. The remains of a cook stove and a cattle shoot. The history of different generations built on one another. History under our feet and around us.
While imagining their lives, their hardships on this hillside, we spotted the graveyard.
Obadiah, the son of Ruben Eaton & Polley died at just five years old. Martha, the wife of Ruben died in 1848, at 87 years old. Ruben died at 67 years old. Martha was alive as George Washington became our first president, and died just 14 years before Abraham Lincoln took the reins. I've not yet figured out the relationship between Polley, Ruben and Martha, but do know that they had a beautiful piece of land up here.
I wonder how long it took them to get to the nearest mercantile. I wonder who the littlest gravestone was for, probably a very young child that couldn't thrive. I wonder what livestock they had and if they were trappers. I wonder what vegetables were in their gardens and how much firewood they needed to make it through the long winters.
We thought about what brought them joy and entertainment. We thought about how long it must have taken them to make these fields, to build these structures.
My, how much has changed since the day they walked this land.
Thanks for sharing this interesting post. Seeing those gravestones which still looked like they were in good shape made me realize what we leave behind when we are gone - life markers to let the world know we were there....
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