One of the best things about reenacting is that you are always present. It is almost ironic that trying hard to being in the past makes it easy to be present—the present of “being in the moment,” being here now.

I really mean mindfulness, but that’s not as good a pun.

Just be: it’s easier without a watch, without a cell phone. I am by no means trying to say that reenacting is a panacea or without politics, for it is neither. What I do know is that dressing in the 18^th century manner, attending events at historic sites with other reenactors, and engaging in 18^th century activities changes a person. It changes me, changes my husband and son.

We are lost to time, in time, and while we can usually estimate the time of the clock, we find ourselves knitting or sewing or walking without regard to time, but instead to light, or hunger, or tiredness. Around us, the 21^st century site staff are running tours, checking watches, checking cellphones, and we are sewing, chatting, learning. We are stones in the rivers of other people’s busy.

Saturday we celebrated Rhode Island Independence at Nathanael Greene Homestead. It was a trial, in a way: poorly done history, misogyny among non-unit re-enactors (Civil War guys, get a grip!), and the Mouse Woman. But we went for a walk to the River, in quite the 18th century way. With this Regiment, you never quite know what will happen, though no one sang at us this day, and the fishermen ignored us.

We walked to the falls, dug in a pile for slag from Greene’s forge, chucked sticks in the water, and listened to the water.  Clear and so fast it seemed not to move above the falls, foamy torrents roared below the drop.

I came home grateful for the guys, for their patience, and for the day.