"How dear to this heart are
the scenes of my childhood,
When fond recollection
presents them to view.
Then soon with the emblem
of truth overflowing,
And dripping with coolness,
it rose from the well.
The old oaken bucket,
the iron-bound bucket,
The moss-covered bucket,
which hung in the well."

Samuel Woodworth

urban moss
photo © 2000 the archive of light