One chilly winters day last year (or was it the year before?) I ventured outside to refill the log basket. The roaring fire needed re stoking and the task fell to me. The wood pile, stacked against the house seldom seems to diminish, the logs at the back sitting there for seasons while the front logs come and go with more frequency. Anyway, this winters day, towards the end of the season, the pile was getting a little lower and as I tugged at the dusty, cobwebbed old logs i spied a treasure. A treasure in the real true sense. A jewelery box. Somewhat worse for wear, but mostly intact. Can you imagine my delight! I'm mean, I love this kind of thing! Not forgetting my duty to the fireplace, I added the box to the wood basket and headed inside the house.The old jewelry box, its hinge now only half working allowed me to open it up to peek inside. Within I discovered old necklaces, earrings, beads and jewels, all from another era. All covered with mud and dust and the patina of time.
This, it turned out, is a tale of ancestors, of a flood, and perhaps a little forgetfulness. I shall leave the story there, for your imagination to take it where it will.
Above you can see an art work I created at the end of last year which includes a brooch from this old jewelry box.
