Friday, May 4, 2012
You Never Miss the Water Till the Well Runs Dry
East Lyme Historical Society. I wasn't planning to write yet another post about yet another old weathered building reminiscent of a simpler time and all that, but then the rain got in the way of what I was going to write about. And then I saw this place; I'd seen it before, but this time, for some reason, I had to turn around and stop for it, and walk across this lawn, soaking the bottom 3 or 4 inches of my jeans and probably damaging my shoes and exposing my feet to whatever horrors lurk in the grasses of East Lyme.
I did a quick search for similar wells, wondering whether Connecticut was in fact full of examples that I'd somehow overlooked. But all the pictures I could find of wells like this came from far away places, rural regions where poverty and tradition appeared to have stopped the progress of time in countries that had nothing to do with Connecticut or even with the English origins of the people who settled here. And maybe that's why I had to stop at this house in the rain. It's not just another time that's evoked by these old weathered buildings and abandoned technologies, it's a lost link to another world.