A Gift at the Grist Mill

Unexpected Pleasure at the Grist Mill


Yesterday I went to the Grist Mill in Seekonk to meet  up with my reunion class from Saint Xavier's Academy.  A small group meets every month --weather permitting. This was supposed to be  on the last day of February, but when I appeared there at Noon I was told there was no reservation for the group.

 I sat  alone for a  minute and then asked whether they had been there the day before and the hostess said yes. So -- They said the last day of February-- and I wrote  29 down because of Leap Year  but they met on the 28th.  I stood to depart and then I stopped.

I f you don't know it the Grist Mill is perched on a lovely spot, a  small falls of the Runnins River. It has been there a long time and on this day we were having a little snow. The grey tone of the sky, the water, the arching bridge, the stone walls, the gulls, the geese and the two immense swans were creating a  picture of  unmixed harmonies of  white, grey,  charcoal,  silver, and black that Whistler would have delighted in.

 So I thought  why rush out--this is a gift of a solitary lunch in a   perfect place. I  asked for and was seated by the window bedside the falls. The sound and motion of the water danced  outside the window and inside the aroma of cooking and the wood smoke from the  stone hearth fireplace  made a delicious contrast.

I went home and wrote this the  first day of March and I did  not post it. As my readers may know the Grist Mill has been destroyed by a passing  truck and an explosion. I cannot even look when I drive  by now. How I hope that something beautiful and appropriate will be erected there.

AND THIS HOPE CAME TRUE!