Story of an Old Mill
This is a story of a hidden Mill. Not so much the Mill itself, but about how I was so privileged to be able to be taken there.
I was going kayaking on the Black River back in March and the public access spot was far from the river due to the river changing course. We drove around to find a place we could put in, but all the land was privately owned. We were driving down a gravel road, and here comes a four wheeler, with a confederate flag, barreling down the road. I wave down the man and ask him if he knew of any places we could put in.
Yee Haw!!! He yelled and offered to let us put in at his cabin. Ray, his name was Ray. He had a long beard and hair, a big smile, and tons of personality.
After our kayaking adventure, we end our journey at Ray’s cabin where we had left our vehicles. Ray offered to take us to see something that very few people knew existed. An old Grist Mill. We followed his four wheeler down gravel roads to a little secluded spot off the highway. Literally a few yards from a decently busy highway, this beautiful place existed and almost no one knew about it.
Meandering down a trail filled with trash and over grown brush, we came upon the most beautiful site.
Ray. Ray was so kind to show me this most amazing place. Hidden. What is most important is that he gave me such a gift to show this to me. Someone he barely knew. Someone he just helped out by just being kind. I can imagine he was just being himself. Rugged on the outside, soft on the inside.
People like Ray are hard to find in life. Give them your biggest smiles, your kindest words and your purest actions. Everyone is someone, everyone is important, and most of all, we are all going through, or been through something during our life that has made us who we are.
I recently wen’t back and had the fortunate opportunity to show this amazing hidden gem to my boyfriend (another amazing gem). Best birthday weekend ever!