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The Goldsmith and the Stone Pg. 10

The Goldsmith and the Stone Pg. 10

Goldsmith story by Rachel Walker

The rain poured for several weeks, an unusual amount, the locals said. All the anticipation and cooped up feelings were talked over daily at Mammy’s café. Goldsmith found the time began to change his outlook on these local people. What once he found to be curt, rude detachment, he began to understand as discouragement and hardships.  He thought of his own comfortable childhood, his complaints at finishing his egg’s benedict that were too soft. He wondered at the resilience of these locals. He began to see them more as a community of rugged people with intelligent thoughts and sometimes wisdom from a life he was not closely familiar with. 

Every day felt a lift in mood and a growing energy of enthusiasm, dare to say dreams.

As only time can unfold a story, the sun broke through like a victory and the  fields of green shone and sparkled in it’s warm rays. Knowing the miners would have to wait for the waters to retreat, they decided to build an old fashioned sleuth, with what was available in the village. 

They also began talking about creating a drag line scraper. Black Hat Jack said back in his day they would convert to a type of bucket operation. Goldsmith was familiar with this procedure as he had watched his Grandfather set one or two of these up and with much success. This was a great solution to the higher waters and this way they could start right away!

The team worked together as old friends, joking and story telling to pass the time, taking large drinks of cool fresh water from the river to refresh themselves as the sun dried the earth’s surface.

Goldsmith found himself being renewed in the simple life here in the valley’s; for the first time hearing the different birds sing their songs and the great feeling of work done outdoors. 

They all knew they could head in to Mammy’s for a good evening meal, her prices always less than they should be. A woman of character, Goldsmith thought. One individual affecting them all, and it didn’t matter what kind of clothes she wore, or what she looked like, she made an impact.

She was like a “conflict free” diamond, he thought. A stone with morality. Then he chuckled to himself, heading back to his cabin. How he always compared people with gems.

The sun now setting, and evening in full swing, Goldsmith stepped onto his porch, opened the latch on his wooden door as it creaked open in anticipation of tomorrows finds.

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