March 11, 2004

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  Mill Gears At Dianna's Baths
  And I wandered towards the stream on that super sun shiney day and something caught my eye, something off to the side of the path just over the bank and sticking up. I crawled through the snow and ice and came upon a gear, a transfer kind of gear looking like it changed one direction of motion from one to another. It was sitting in a crumbling cement box fed by a threee foot pipe on one side and emptying out below. The pipe had ceased being attached to anything years ago and just stuck out toward the pools of water at the base of the falls. It was then I saw the geometry of it. Old, yes very old, and missing most of itself; a mill stood here once about one hundred years ago. So little left; some footings with long bolts long rusting with nuts securly fastening nothing where wood beams used to be. I wandered over the lower section around the powerhouse gear and I looked up at the falls and saw the boxed cement walls that would trap the rushing stream and pool it. The bottom and side of the wall had crumbled and I could imagine the pipe, when it had been alive and solid, would carry that load rushing down to whatever mechanism waited to realease it; the price being a bit of force to turn the screw before being freed to continue down stream
  WIDTH="300" ALIGN="left" BORDER="0">	Steel headed stately magestic screw. Ton turner load shouldered The emptyness rots you Waiting for spring runnoff that will never come Rain drops will dance but you will never spin a turn with those small quickwater Your race is done and choaked with stillness and peace
  WIDTH="300" ALIGN="left" BORDER="0">	I can be usefull again! Whisper the mill wraith We can work We will work Don't let our rust fool you. Resting is for our dead hands who hauled board feet of sister tree through teeth of single steeled purpose. Come closer, listen to us We can work We will work Don't let our rust fooled you!
  	The pipe was patched and rusted straight and lit by that sun seeming to infect every thing working its way into the crevasses of old time; a nosey dog with gentle curiosity an active tongue licks everything with new ancient warmth only a bath could take away.
  SRC="http://i.xanga.com/RickFike/t/DiannasBathFromBelowWinter.jpg" WIDTH="300" BORDER="0">	Frozen foamy bath waits for Diana to return. Goddess of the hunt will wash Orions blood off here. It is as if when we turn our back in sad defiance the steam stops, and waits for our small attemps to free it. All ancient wisdom is locked up in here; prophesy the key. Sol is our gatekeeper and he shuffles slow in this month of almost new; when will Diana return? when will the rivers flow? When will Persephone return?

  
  

  • 9:58 pm
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