Friday, March 30, 2012

I've Been Gone, But I'm Back Now!

Sorry I haven't posted recently, my poor purple laptop got sick with a serious virus and had to go to the computer doctor for a while.  After much cleaning (electronically), deletion of the nasty bug and a general tune up my beloved laptop returned home.   I then went on a ten day trip to visit my son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren.  I had a wonderful time, slept on a couch, kept wildly different hours than I normally do, ate foods I normally don't eat, played with different dogs, got my tattoos re-inked and touched up in addition to a new one.   I was so tired when I got home earlier this week that my poor old Crone brain could hardly function.....but things are slowly getting back to normal.


While I was visiting my son we went on a day trip to explore an old abandoned gold mill.  It was very interesting and led me to think about deserted buildings and towns.  This location had been a gold mine where they used cyanide to leach the gold from the milled ore.  You can still feel and taste the cyanide in the air and dust.  Obviously not a healthy place to be.  

Now this site is a midnight gathering place for teenagers looking for a cool place to party.  The graffiti is amazing and I wondered how on earth the artists managed to reach some of the locations!  I could feel the spirits of those who had worked there, feel their eyes on me as I walked through the buildings.  Even though this site was abandoned in the early 1920's it almost has that hushed surreal feeling you get in ancient temples and tombs.


We as a culture place special emphasis on sites that are old.  How old is old?  In the United States we get giddy over buildings that are over two hundred years old.  In Europe and other countries that is nothing.  The America's have the Incas, and Aztecs among others.  The Orient, Middle East and Africa is even older.  Yet here I was feeling a sense of place and history from a site that was relatively new.  Perhaps it isn't the age but the spirit of the people who where there that somehow still lingers keeping watch.  Will our own homes someday be studied and wondered over long after we are gone?  Will my little cottage in the woods on "the peninsula" be such a place?  Will your home?  Are we each living in a future Stonehenge?  Will sometime in the distant future a silver haired little crone stroll through the ruins of my home and feel my spirit watching her?  I hope so.


Le Petite Crone says:  It's good to be home, no matter when it is!