A gift bottle, and the story that goes with it.

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shorthandleshovel

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About forty years ago, a friend of mine was hiking the mountains near a mother lode gold mine. On the face of a cut bank was a partially eroded out two gallon bucket that looked to have been placed there and upside down. After edging the dirt away, he discovered the bucket was guarding three things. The bucket held the bottle pictured, a whisk broom, (mostly worn out) and a stage timetable from 1900.

It was easy to see the original owner was sweeping bedrock crevices to pan the gold contained in the dirt there. The bottle was a pain balm no doubt to help all the sore muscles gotten from digging all day. I got gifted the bottle. That is the original cork. But when found, the contents were mostly dried away save for a quarter inch of gunk on the bottom. I pulled the cork and took a sniff. The contents were plainly clear by the aroma. Mostly turpentine, and camphor and menthol.

I got a wild notion and got those ingredients and mixed up a batch. The sniff tests were identical from my batch, and the dried contents. So into the bottle my stuff went. And here it is, sitting patiently right here by the computer waiting to deliver a drop of aromatherapy. I enjoy it often. The bonus is that it takes me back to gold rush times sensually. The bottle is humble as bottles go. But it is a champion in its impact on me.
 

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