On our 40th wedding anniversary trip to Williamsburg, Dianne pretends to assist Thomas Jefferson with writing the Declaration of Independence.
Tourists stroll past the Public Hospital of 1773. The thunderhead to the south in the distance is over land my ancestors settled on in 1641.
It is so peaceful strolling through this restored 18th Century village, it is easy to forget this is not merely a pastoral scene. It is a reminder of a day when people kept their food alive until they needed to eat it, killing some and salting it some to make it through the winter. There was a much stronger connection to the land and web of life than most of us have today.
Backyards in the heart of the village were not places of ease. The animals need for survival were kept there. Sheep provided not only food, but wool for clothing.
During our anniversary celebration in Christina Campbell's Tavern, a reenactor portraying the 18th Century tavern owner reminded us that single women and widows in Colonial America could own property. But once a woman married, ownership of her property transfered to her husband.
Tourists walk the streets of the historic district under a full moon. Forty years ago, Dianne and I were headed here on our honeymoon. We never made it. Instead we stopped on an Atlantic coastal island and stayed there. Tonight, four decades later we complete that journey.
The colonial magazine and guardhouse lit by sentry fires and a full moon mark an excellent end to a memorable day.