My friends - Today I am sending along another of the essays written by the late Dr. Gordon Wilson, a native of Fidelity(which we know as New Concord)in Calloway County. Our good friends at "The Kentucky Explorer" discovered this 1950 piece by Dr. Wilson and published it recently, for which we are grateful. I expect to bring some data posts to the List this week. I have recently been involved with the translation of a 17th century family document that was written mostly in Latin. It has been a challenge, given the script in use at that time and the use of the Latin language. -B ==================================================================== Kentucky Springs -Dr. A. Gordon Wilson Water out of a faucet is certainly purer and more abundant than water from a spring, but something poetic has disappeared in the process of confining the stream in an iron pipe. Springs formerly had a much more important place in our little world than they have now. They often determined the location of the first settlements, but many of the pioneer springs have dried up since the woods have been destroyed. Other springs that once figured in human welfare have been covered with sand or have become hopelessly polluted. Streets have been laid over countless springs and spring branches. In modern London we are told the trout brooks that Isaac Walton used to fish in are now underground drains and sewers. But in many country places the spring still holds a high place, as picturesque and necessary as the old well and its oaken bucket. Springs are often associated with spring houses. An artist looking for the quaint and antique, could find dozens of models for his art in the spring houses of Kentucky from the simple boxed-type to the stone houses, nearly all of them ancient in appearance and often overgrown with mosses and lichens. What an array of milk and other food the old spring house sheltered. Since ice is a necessity in many country homes, milk cooled in a spring house may not seem cold enough, but we old-timers still prefer just that temperature given by its being exposed to the cold spring water for a day or two. Sometimes a spring was a sort of neighborhood institution. One such in the neighborhood of Fidelity, Calloway County, Kentucky, in which I was born, has been of great value to the surrounding farms. For greater health the early settlers built their houses on a hill away from the malarial swamps. Water, then, became a difficult thing to get. Wells dug in this soil often got clogged with sand - ours did. But the roadside spring, curbed with a hollow gum log, has supplied an abundance of pure, clear water for two or more generations. When the supply, caught in the winter rains, runs low in the cisterns, water is hauled from the spring for immediate use or to fill the cistern again. Horses are brought to this spring to drink. Near at hand is a country church always attractive because of the cold water supply. No neighborhood center is more appreciated or better known. People from a distance have used this spring as the center for picnics for 50 years or more. The spring has become a symbol of nature's bounty. Springs had many another association in the mind of the small boy. The spring branch was always a good place to see small fish and other water animals. Along the branch grew cerdinol flowers, swamp astors, and water weeds. Crawfish built their chimneys near the little stream. In the coldest weather when the larger streams would be frozen over, the little spring branch would be clear and free, often with green water plants still growing in it. Daring youngsters loved to wade in the cold water during the summer to show how brave they were and often slipped and got their Sunday pants wet. Fortunately such things as state and national parks and forests are utilizing the springs and restoring them to some of their former use fullness. Given a spring in a woodland, what else would one wish to make poetry a reality? ===================================================================