river brought him. Before his day started at the Glazier shoppe, he had often followed the tidal river to the docks to watch the birds and the trade moving in and out of Boston. He noted that there was significant quantities of wool being shipped from Boston. Seeing the wool being shipped caused him to wonder how his friend John was doing. He hadn't seen or thought of John for a very long time it seemed.
The tidal river also had other benefits. One of the other glaziers had shown him that at low tide fish could be easily caught in the river. The meat of the fish was a welcomed addition to his otherwise bland diet.
He had been in Boston for more that a fortnight and now that the window was done, the Master was allowing him to return to Burghley for Elizabeth. How he had missed Elizabeth. He had never been away before and now he was so anxious to return. He found that if he thought about Elizabeth and home too frequently, his mood turned melancholy. But, regardless, it seemed that he thought of her continually. He thought of her laugh and the sparkle of her eyes when she smiled. He loved the way that she danced with so much gaiety. He imagined her braided hair wrapped around her head like a crown, each braid adorned with flowers, like jewels. In his mind he could see her dress flare out as she twilled to an imaginary song. He longed to hold her and look into her beautiful eyes.
With work done for the day, he was free to leave for Stamford, Burghley and Easton-on-the-hill. He collected his wages and left straightway. He didn't like traveling after dark, but he hoped to be in Burghley before dark the next day. If he made good time tonight, he could get a room in Spalding before midnight. He was carrying most everything that he owned. He had come to Boston with almost nothing, but now he had a new cloak with a hood, a nicer blanket and money in his pouch. He would keep the pouch beneath his long shirt so as to not call attention.
It appeared that this trip would afford him good weather, except for the expected November chill. The flat fens offered no protection from the wind as it blew off the North Sea. He pulled the cloak tightly around himself and held the hood close to his chin. He also wrapped the wool blanket around his shoulders. He was happy that there was no rain or snow.
A few miles outside of Boston, the dark night yielded slightly as the moon began to rise. 'The moon will be welcomed company,' he thought as he noticed it rising over his left shoulder.
Because the roads were fairly dry and with the advantage of the moonlight, Richard traveled faster than he had expected and he was sure that he was in Spalding before midnight. The innkeeper still had the lamp lit at the 'Boar's Head' and Richard went inside and secured some potatoes, bread and milk and a room. The room had a large bed with a fine straw mattress and he wasn't sure that he had ever slept in so fine a room. He marveled at the ease of travel when a traveler had money in his pouch. Before retiring to the bed, Richard prayed for Elizabeth as was his custom.
Richard got an early start the next morning. Finally, today was the day that he would be reunited with his dear wife. He crossed the River Welland a few miles outside Spalding and imagined it flowing through Stamford and near to Burghley. He imagined that the same water flowing beneath the bridge that he was walking across was the same water that had flowed beneath the Stamford Bridge the day previous and that Elizabeth was on the bridge when it passed beneath. He spotted a flower floating in the water. In his mind's eye he saw Elizabeth toss the flower into the water with a smile on her face while thinking of him. The thought drew his heart more to Elizabeth.
It was still daylight when Richard walked into Stamford. He realized that nothing seemed to have changed, and why should it, Stamford had always been as he knew it. But, he realized that he had changed. He had faced obstacles, loneliness, hunger, and the elements and had survived. He had found a job on his own in a strange place and