February 14

On the far side of the farm fields, in the woods below what is called the lower field, is a small, dilapidated square outbuilding, nearly 4 foot on each side, with the vestiges of a hip-style roof. In the summer months, it is impossible to see this building, because the overgrowth of vegetation blocks any view into the woods. As it is, even in the winter when the trees are bare and the ground vegetation of golden rod, sumac, tall grass, and various ivy is largely gone, the outbuilding is still difficult to locate among the trunks and branches.

Actually, it is easier to find by sound, if the wind is light enough so as not to mask the noise. Just next to the building is an artesian spring, which runs all year, even in the bitter cold of January and February. The building may have at one time been a small storage shed for collecting water, or perhaps an abandoned pump house of some sort.

This spring lets forth a continual stream of the most crystal clear, clean and notably cold fresh water. For our family, this spring was a lifesaver a few years ago, during a notable December ice storm that disrupted power in Paxton for over eight days.

Because I knew of the spring, each day I would trudge through the snow across Cournoyer’s fields, carrying two five-gallon buckets to fill. The tree fall in the woods near the spring on account of the ice damage made access a little tricky, but through careful stepping and ducking I was able to reach the flow.

I’d fill both buckets and bring them back to the house, one for water and the other for washing dishes or for use to flush the toilette. It was rustic living these eight days, where darkness came early, and we huddled close to the woodstove reading by candlelight with tea made from the water of the artesian well steadily brewing on the stovetop.