How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection presents them to view!
The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild-wood,
And every loved spot which my infancy knew!
The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it,
The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell…
the old grist mill
where as kids, my parents would bring us
on occasional Sundays to explore
and watch as the grains were ground into flour
and where my school art class came to picnic
and where my husband and I had our wedding pictures taken
so much history here