Fenced In By The Past In Empire Village
When I walk my little plot of land in Empire, invariably I trip over a half buried, broken down fence. Made of rough hewn tree limbs and barbed wire, it is pretty well camouflaged by a thick overgrowth of vegetation. After swearing into the wind, I get up off the ground and remind myself why I don't remove this hazard: Because it's my link to the history of this land and to the people who came before me. The fence was most likely part of the orchard that covered these hills at the turn of the century. Or a remnant of Norway Town, a settlement by the lakeshore of Norwegians who worked at the Empire Lumber Company mill during this period. I like to contemplate that a century ago - someone - filled with hopes and dreams, proudly planted the fence to cordon off their little parcel of land. And now this land, in the fullness of time and by favorable circumstance, has become my own. Remarkable. I wonder if their hopes and dreams for the land were fulfilled. Min