Living History

Historic Cold Spring Village is "an Early American open-air living history museum" located near Cape May, NJ.   It was almost 100 degrees outside on the day we visited, but we were still able to enjoy our walk down the various paths.   I think I'll show you my pictures, spread out over the next two or three days, rather than trying to fit them all into one posting ...

We were greeted right at the ticket booth by beautiful black-eyed susan plants .... a touch of cheer to any day ....

Horses and buggies were waiting to take people around the village ... we chose not to do that ... the poor horses looked hot and weary

This was the village blacksmith.   Even though it was 100 degrees, he was still working in front of that small fire, perfecting his craft.    I can't look at this picture without thinking of God and of His ways of working in our hearts ....

This is the Blacksmith Shop ....

The horse, bearing his burden ....

I preferred seeing the wagons empty ...

The Ice Cream Shop .... the air-conditioned coolness inside was a small taste of heaven ....

Check back in tomorrow for more pictures of this walk into the past ...

Click photos to enlarge

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When You Are Imagining ....

I am so in love with white houses.   Actually, I am in love with white.period.     Gary and I took the ferry over to Cape May, NJ on Friday.   While riding through the countryside in that area, we came upon this oh-so-wondrous house built in 1829 ... the Abby Holmes House ... currently being used for catering special events such as weddings, bridal showers, anniversary parties, birthday celebrations, etc.     Here are some of the views ....  (click photos to enlarge and enjoy the architectural details)

"For a moment Anne's heart fluttered, and for the first time her eyes faltered under Gilbert's gaze and a rosy flush stained the paleness of her face. It was as if a veil that had hung before her inner consciousness had been lifted, giving to her view a revelation of unsuspected feelings and realities. Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one's life with pomp and blare; perhaps it crept to one's side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung across its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps. . . perhaps. . .love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath. "

— L.M. Montgomery (Anne of Avonlea)

"It is next to shade to know that those we love are cool on a parched day."

(Emily Dickinson)

"I don't want sunbursts or marble halls, I just want you."

— L.M. Montgomery (Anne of Green Gables)

 

Wouldn't it be amazing to live in a place such as this?  Coming from a family of eight children, I've always longed for a house that could accomodate family gatherings ... with rooms enough for all ... with a porch in which I could place wicker chairs and wicker tables and wicker ceiling fans.   There would be lace curtains at the windows, birdbaths at the entrance, flower beds scattered here and there.    Is that why I am so in love with this house?

"...when you are imagining, you might as well imagine something worth while..."

— L.M. Montgomery (Anne of Green Gables)

What kinds of things do YOU imagine?

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Even There

"There might be some hours of loneliness. But there was something wonderful even in loneliness."

(L.M.Montgomery)

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Wounded Hearts

Located in a church graveyard in a tiny, tiny little town in Kent County, Maryland. Both stones had fallen from their upright positions, onto the ground. The stones are for a man and wife and child. The stone to the right is for the husband, who died on August 18, 1854 (aged 31 years) His wife died August 31, 1854 (aged 25 years). On her stone is also the name of their three-month-old baby who died on October 15, 1853. The epitaph for the baby reads ... "Innocence on the Bosom of Love." You can't help but wonder if the mother and father died of broken hearts.

(You can read the words on the stones better if you enlarge the view. I wasn't able to make out all of the words written for the mother)

"Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish;

Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal."

("Come, Ye Disconsolate", by Thomas More)

An angel statue located in a cemetery in Chestertown, Maryland. I was able to capture a few shots while a bird was resting upon one of the wings.

I will complain, yet praise;

I will bewail, approve;

And all my sour-sweet days

I will lament and love.

(George Herbert)

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