One Christmas, twenty years ago, all eleven cousins from one side of our family were there, all under 13 years old. They decided to bury a time capsule. Each child contributed a drawing, three of them co-authored a poem and the papers were then rolled up and placed in a Fowler preserving jar which was covered in a plastic supermarket bag. They capsule was buried near the house fence in front of the verandah and they marked the spot with a rock.
This Christmas eight of the cousins, including our son on a visit home from Switzerland, were at the farm again - all adults now. They decided to dig up the capsule.
Just one small problem. Where was it??? The fence had been pulled down, the rock moved by a mowing contractor and each cousin had a different memory about where they'd buried it. They probed the ground for a while without success and then started digging. Several square metres later the capsule was found, opened and the contents viewed with much amusement. The lengthy poem in particular was a delight. Here's an extract.
One by one all the kids came out and saw the presents, with a shout,
but the presents couldn't be opened because Kay and Det
hadn't arrived yet.
...
Kay and Det did arrive
in their excellent 4 wheel drive.
We could finally open the presents we were anticipating.
For a few days our grandson Geoff had a great time in the hole and on the mound of dirt before it was filled in.
Now, dear readers, I haven't forgotten that this is a nature blog. I tell this tale to let you know that the contents of the time capsule had survived in perfect condition for twenty years because the plastic bag had not deteriorated at all. Doesn't that speak volumes?
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