An old crockery pot lay against a crooked stone wall. Dusty and hot in the sun. Chipped just a tiny piece in the back. I nudged it with my toe, and while I knocked loose part of the stone behind it, nothing crawled out, so I considered it safe to pick up. I blew off some of the dust, wiped a bit of the grime away, and thought I might have found a treasure. How old? Who was to say, and what difference did it make? What I saw was beautiful… and I had a use for it. It was brand new to me. Read the rest of this entry »