Everything AND the Kitchen Sink

While on a lengthy drive to a trailhead, we stopped at the side of the road to let our restless dogs do what dogs do on the sides of roads. A few yards up we came across a curious discovery.

As if dropped from a temporal portal of the past and plunked down among the moss in the middle of nowhere sits this porcelain sink, circa 1950. A dishtowel has been carefully draped on the edge and the plates and saucers are neatly stacked in the drainer, as if June Cleaver herself, having finished her after-dinner chores, disappeared in a puff of smoke along with the rest of her surroundings.

Nary a house nor campsite can be found nearby to explain its presence. Judging by the trademarks on the dinnerware, this is old, durable crockery. My mother had an entire set of Corelle by Corning which held plenty of scrumptious mac 'n' cheese lunches throughout the years...but that was long ago and I certainly didn't help rinse the dishes in the woods after gorging myself on Kraft.

So why is it here? And who is using it? Have the bears in the Catskills evolved in ways we're not aware? It's a puzzle wrapped in porcelain shrouded in soapsuds, and I fear it will never be solved!


  1. Summer kitchen for Rainbow Family or traveling Deadheads???

  2. Interesting theory, Don. I should have scoped the surroundings a bit more thoroughly for any stray Birkenstocks or partially torn dancing bear stickers ;-)