Years ago, our family and many others made frequent trips to this little spring to bring home water for household use. Back then, the water came down a moss – covered wooden trough and flowed across the road to the creek.
Often the kids played in the creek while the adults filled the water containers. I remember more than once, hearing my grandmother say, “I wish we could turn it off, so it won’t run out.”
I have no idea when the trough was replaced by pipe, I had not been there in years, but this morning while Hubby and I wandered about, we thought it would be a good plan to stop by for a drink and a look.
I followed the pipe up under some rocks and found the ‘real’ spring flowing out of the hillside. May-apple umbrella leaves have sprung up around it and some water cress is growing in the tiny pool formed before it runs into the pipe.
We were a lot more conscious and conservative of our water use back then. Each use was considered and each drop accounted for, not like we are today, with a seemingly endless supply at the turn of the tap.
I took an empty water bottle from the truck, filled it and enjoyed a deep satisfying quaff of cold clear water. Ah, the taste, and even more the memories.