Oh, I love this. I'm imagining the little house that went around the fireplace. Maybe one open room with a loft, where the dwellers huddled around the fire in the evening, partly for warmth, partly to tell stories and share dreams of the future.
It was the year 1772 and my family and I have been in the new world for two years now. We moved to the wilds of Pennsylvania and built a little one room cabin. Pa and I go out everyday and hunt for food for Ma and my sister Anne to cook for our dinner. Today we are out hunting for deer, now that it is winter and the meat will keep. Tonight we will have a feast and sit around the hearth listening to Pa play his fiddle.
Less really is more. The hands that created that fireplace were hard worn and calloused. The same hands that split the firewood. When there was sufficient food and fuel it was a joyous place.
Deliverance. yep - I am playing dueling banjos in my head RIGHT NOW!
Actually, this makes me a little sad - I'd like to think it was the root of a home to many, and they just moved on, to a bigger house, where they all fit comfortably....
this one has me puzzled .... was this a house that was built next to a hill? and if so, what did it look like? and did that provide some kind of protection? but with it exposed to the open air .... it is like you can smell the earthy moss and fall leaves. and I wonder how they saw this spot and said "yes, this is where we should build a home"
6 comments:
Oh, I love this. I'm imagining the little house that went around the fireplace. Maybe one open room with a loft, where the dwellers huddled around the fire in the evening, partly for warmth, partly to tell stories and share dreams of the future.
It was the year 1772 and my family and I have been in the new world for two years now. We moved to the wilds of Pennsylvania and built a little one room cabin. Pa and I go out everyday and hunt for food for Ma and my sister Anne to cook for our dinner. Today we are out hunting for deer, now that it is winter and the meat will keep. Tonight we will have a feast and sit around the hearth listening to Pa play his fiddle.
Less really is more. The hands that created that fireplace were hard worn and calloused. The same hands that split the firewood. When there was sufficient food and fuel it was a joyous place.
Deliverance. yep - I am playing dueling banjos in my head RIGHT NOW!
Actually, this makes me a little sad - I'd like to think it was the root of a home to many, and they just moved on, to a bigger house, where they all fit comfortably....
this one has me puzzled .... was this a house that was built next to a hill? and if so, what did it look like? and did that provide some kind of protection? but with it exposed to the open air .... it is like you can smell the earthy moss and fall leaves. and I wonder how they saw this spot and said "yes, this is where we should build a home"
Mysterious! I wonder if the fireplace was once part of a house. I love finding odd things in the woods.
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