A Chilly but Satisfying Walk

Tine and Rubob walked down to the cemetery by the river this afternoon, and Rubob, with his eye for detail and fondness for history, happened upon this inscription: "Franklin Cowles, who died at Fort Laramie on his way to California, July 1, 1849. "

"Isn't that interesting," Rubob said. "He would have been on his way West during the Gold Rush."

It was the first grave of a 49'er Tine had seen. And if she'd ever wondered why they were called 49'ers, well, there you are.



The grave was Rubob and Tine's gold nugget on their walk today. But there was this sight, too, on the way home, when Tine turned her gaze upward:



Now there's a chimney that must draw well, towering as it does above the roof. Rubob opined later that it looked like a scene from a town overlooking the sea. There is a river that wends its way by the village, but no seaside, unfortunately.

There was something of history in Tine's walk today, something timeless, and a suggestion of unlimited prospect in the present, too.

All in all, a very pleasant walk.