Charles stopped by after work on Tuesday with gifts of Iron and Bread. I was outside painting a suitcase, online monitoring testing- paint and light spring rain and pollen on the wind. He had been working all day tearing down a chicken house (no quaint little chicken house... it's a commercial chicken-farm that ceased use years ago and the landsman wants it gone...)
In the process of tearing down the chicken house, Charles found these keys buried in the dirt. They are old, iron, fused together- huge and mysterious- a foot in length from ring to end. A treasure, a find, a gift to delight. I like that he knows that I would be pleased by such things, that he noticed my keys hanging in the studio, that he thought to bring them to me. Iron.
The bread - every Monday he and his father drive into Castle Hayne and collect bread for the church to give to people who need it. He chose some for me- a boxfull! English muffins and bagels- both large and tiny, a soft white loaf, grainy brown bread that is sturdy and strong. I took the bagels to school with me yesterday- clever King hid them in a pizza box, played a successful Fool's on the kids- but they were happy with the bagels. I will take the white loaf today for peanut butter sandwiches- I still have packs of muffins and the brown bread in the freezer. More than enough. I like that he is a good man, sharing bread with others- that he knows the magic of giving and shared enough with me so that I could share as well.
Iron and bread. It's a simple alchemy of opposites- the old, the hard, the new, the soft. Freely found, freely given, passed on- a strong sustaining flow of simple things.
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