Beneath the old house framed with cedar posts where the treasures of canning. Dusty in the archived shelves of the cellar.
Crab apples, beets, tomatoes wait. They rest in their jars savory and sweet in their canned and sealed broth.
Handmade wooden stairs, the only way to the cache of syrup with apple and cinnamon sticks, was narrow. Deliberate in steps and slow in the descent.
The way back up, arms loaded with glass jars of fruits and vegetables sealed away from time, slower still.