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 9^th.

Until then, happy hunting, history adventurers!