Where do our stories come from? Sometimes they come from a glimpse into the past -- not our own, but someone else's. Someone we never really knew. One story that has been waiting to be told for a while, is the one of Mr. and Mrs. Bone. Mr. Bone poured the foundation for a tiny house in October of 1917.
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| Inscription on the foundation |
It is only a one-room house, but we like to think the couple who lived there had a good life. There is a well near the house and a crumbled barn close enough to make it easy to get to in the winter, but far enough away to keep the odor from permeating the house in the heat of summer.
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well
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The most amazing thing about this house is the flower garden. I imagine Mrs. Bone kneeling down and placing her precious bulbs in the ground. Did she imagine that they would take hold of the soil and spread into this amazing field, inspiring a couple of writers nearly 100 years later to wonder about the lives that went on in that little house?
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field of daffodils
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In the center of the field, two trees rise up, twisted together. I'm not sure what kind of trees they are. Their leaves have not budded out yet. I like to think that they are Mr. and Mrs. Bone, together still after nearly a century, arms around each other, enjoying their daffodils.
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| Entwined trees |
Today I'm thankful for the people who planted those first daffodils almost a century ago and the love story they inspired.
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