On Sunday when we were crossing the reservoir on the way back home to Castleton, the sunset was so pretty. This isn't the picture I took (it was late and I only had my cell phone camera handy) but the view looked very similar to this one. I don't remember taking this picture or two others that day, I found them in an album on photoworks when they transitioned to shutterfly recently. I think I took this picture circa '03.
Another find, but this was from the filing cabinet:
Fate of the Esopus Valley
by Clarence Wager, resident of Olive, moved to WA in 1907
Where is the Esopus Valley? Yes, tis with us today.
But a few short years, and a few sad tears, and its gone, yes swept away.
Its orchards of apples and cherries: its hickory and maple trees.
Even the stony pastures and hives of honey bees
Are dear to the heart of the people and dearer they will grow,
As the years go by, and sad hearts sigh for the homes of long ago.
Friends and brothers and sisters and fathers and mothers with silvery hair,
Must soon leave the old home, and wander, we know not where.
Some families will still be families when they reach their new abode
But others will part forever, as each takes a different road.
Dear old Esopus Valley, we cannot part with you...
For a hundred years you have shared our tears, our joys and sorrows knew.
And oft in the evening twilight, by our firelight ruddy glow,
We will stand once more on the pebbly shore, where we played in the long ago.
And many a time we'll hear the chime of the old church bell
On the far away hill in the Valley where we were born.
Here's (some of) what was taken:
The "Simpler Living" blog in the TU fascinates me. I have mentioned before that I disdain materialism, and yet I am attached to things. I am not sure how to part with heirlooms and even special ephemera, or why anyone would want to do so. Her most recent post was about downsizing from 900 to 400 square feet. Both my houses are tiny (about 900 square feet each) by most people's standards and as a result, they are what she would consider cluttered. But if I disposed of my treasures, I wouldn't have a copy of the above poem, or the note from my sister that inspired the part of my post that follows:
Aunt Jean died 14 years ago today. In the same file as the poem, there is an email from my sister, dated February 1997. She wrote that a woman she knew from church told her she pictures the Virgin Mary putting her arms around her (grown) kids when they get in the car to leave for a trip. So my sister told me that she pictured those arms around Aunt Jean.