Thursday, April 23, 2009


I tasted rain in the air as I walked. The clouds were low tonight, almost touching the edge of the field. It had been a dry spring, and I felt relief as the raindrops landed heavily one by one. I crossed the dirt road and strode among the stone pillars and slabs, marking the resting places of my friends and family. The rain drops made dark splotches on the granite as I stopped by a well known grave. It was a simple stone and small. Here lay my Almira, my wife gone so young. I felt a comfort here, as I sat in the now pouring rain. I talked and told her how Joe and Rob had grown so tall and strong. I told her about my planting and about Etties' problems as a school teacher. Her voice seemed to come back to me in the music of the rain. We had only been together eight years, but living here was hard without much regard for life. Another wife and 9 more children were good, but somehow I needed to touch Almira, my lost love. "I remember coming into Lost Valley and finding you here," I reminded her. "I thought I was going to die with the wagons, but instead I found you and our own land." I put my face up into the rain and remembered her hair, her loving, her strength. She had been the prize at the end of my fight to survive, waiting for me to claim her. I knew she was waiting for me now...another prize when the battle of my life was over.

Elias Pitzer Williams 1837-1921
Almira Russell Williams 1842-1866


Peter Jones said...

Is this what you wrote at writer's group? I enjoyed it. : )

Jennie and Julie said...

Yep... it's short, but then we only have 10 minutes to write!
Glad you liked it.