Memories of His Lordship's Kindness
Travelling back to the area where I spent my early childhood seemed more a journey through time than through space. I lived across the street from a large cemetery grounds, and visible from that cemetery was the 18th century plantation and mansion called His Lordship's Kindness.
I remember the calls of Peacocks from the grounds in the summertime, and my habit of disrespectfully climbing on the ancient family grave markers in a fenced alcove apart from the newer areas of the cemetery. As a little child I was not taught, and could not have known the significance of this place. But like the remains of the iron forges where I live now, the mansion stands as one testament to the many ways our efforts elevate ourselves are often at best misguided, and at worst become the makings of our own damnation.