Back in 2016, when we were neck-deep in our search for a historic home and pretty stressed about it, I had a dream. I dreamed about an old farmhouse with a trail behind it. Just a quick dream. I woke up and didn’t think much about it. Searching for a home, especially a historic home, can be a grueling process, and I had lots of things on my mind, and weird dreams almost every night.
I also don’t normally put a lot of stock in dreams. But sometimes strange things happen.
See, in the woods behind my house, there’s a trail.
After we moved in, I asked some of our neighbors about it, and they called it “the mill race.” I didn’t know what that meant, though I knew we had a mill in town, and that the trail led about halfway to it. And then it occurred to me.
Beside the trail, there’s a little creek.
Or, at least, when we moved in, we thought it was only a creek. Turns out, it’s a race. And when neighbors told us about “the mill race,” they were talking about the creek, not the trail.
I did some digging and found this map, drawn by a noted local Loudoun County historian named Eugene Scheel.
So, as it turns out, we live along a head race. It starts at a small dam on the west end of the Village, and runs all the way to the mill on the east end.
Pretty cool, right? I certainly think so. It’s another piece of history I get to experience every day.
Next week, I’ll write about the mill and share its story, so if you’re interested, be sure to check back on Friday, October 9th.
Until then, happy hunting, history adventurers!