The Stream

I am going to let mum write our blip today. It's about this stream.

We live next to a stream, and in our little village, there used to be a waterfall. This has been used through the ages as a source of power, and for one hundred and fifty years, this was a prosperous village with many inhabitants, also counting the three big farms around it.

Everything started in 1797, when the paper master Blomberg came and started to build the house we live in, as well as a hand paper factory like other ones that existed in this area, to make paper out of discarded textile fabrics. For a couple of decades, this was a prosperous business, but it was then replaced by an ironworks factory and a smithy, and some smaller industries as well. It is hard today to imagine the hustle and bustle of that time, all those people living in our now very quiet village that during winter has five residents. All the lawns I mow were kitchen gardens. The final and shortest period was the water power being used for mills.

In 1940, the water power station was constructed, with a large dam upstream, which was the end of an era for this little village. Two of the three milk farms, that date back to medieval times on maps, have in my lifetime been closed down. I love our village a lot, and often think about all those who have lived here before us, with respect and gratitude