Walking through the tall pines, enjoying the scents, sights and cool breezes we came upon a clearing. Scattered planks of half burned lumber littered the ground. Broken bricks scattered haphazardly over the landscape. Sunlight glinted reflections at our feet and we bent to investigate the source.
Among the pine needles and dirt we found three shards, one a piece of milky-white glass, the other two, smooth, colorful pieces of pottery. As we sat upon the soft pine cushion, we pondered the possibilities.
Was the smooth milkglass the remainder of a medicine bottle used to restore health to the inhabitants of this magical glade so long ago? Was it perhaps a cure-all peddled by an itinerant huckster from the back of a mule drawn wagon? Were prayers of restored vigor pinned hopefully to the bottled contents?
As we held the pottery our imaginations were stimulated by the incongruity of their fineness amidst this woodsy surrounding. One appeared to be once-fine porcelain, blue and white, intricate in pattern, perhaps a treasured heirloom tenderly packed and brought to this place on a covered wagon by a hopeful bride?
The other shard, green, smooth and obviously part of a more practical set of dishes. Did the people who lived here, dine heartily on this dinnerware after a long day's work? Did the people who dwelled here ponder their hopes and dreams, much as we do now? Did they have opportunity enjoy this wonderful environment or were their lives so taken with the chores of making a living, they had no opportunity to pause and reflect?
We felt fortunate to have the time to sit and lose ourselves in thought, thankful for the tiny gifts left here for us to find.
We gazed at the shards in our hands, up to the blue and green canopy above us. We thought of the lessons of appreciation to be learned from these three precious shards.
Winds whispered through the pines as we strained to hear the secrets it softly told us.
The original poetry on these pages may not be copied, reproduced, distributed or used in any way without the express written permission of the author. ©2002-2015 Laura
