By Michael Avery
I had the great pleasure and also the great misfortune of growing up at a quicksilver mine my father operated. With fifty-plus acres of hills, meadows, streams, ponds, wild strawberries, and ample wildlife, it was an idyllic place for a boy to live.
However, quicksilver, also known as mercury, is extremely toxic. The liquid metal that I often held in my hands turned out to be something other than a fun toy, as health issues later in life would prove. But this article is about a different memory from the “Bonanza Mine”—one that involves an old mining train and how it engendered a useful spiritual exercise.
