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The Impossible Dream

Handcrafted, Weathered-Copper, Musical Windmill

(View Additional Photographs**)

Handcrafted, Weathered-Copper,
Musical Windmill

Regardless of the room in which it is placed, this affecting portrayal of life on the farm with its gleaming, weathered-copper windmill, farmhouse, and landscape will become the focal point—a magical place where, when brought to life by the rotating vanes of the old windmill and the sweet strains of The Impossible Dream, are tenderly awakened childhood memories and are born dreams of heartsease.

For me, it is a time machine whereby I am transported to the home of my grandparents where passed seemingly endless summer days harmoniously balanced by the equally entertaining notions of work and play; Thanksgivings and Christmases which would have been the envy of Currier and Ives; long, solitary walks along winding, country lanes; sunrises and sunsets both wondrous and of indescribable beauty; a cocoon of serenity and security warmed by flannel shirts and wood stoves; a kitchen awash with the most wonderful aromas imaginable and which, on the coldest of mornings, was toasty, snug, and ever inviting; a place where the words "stranger" and "unwelcome" were neither spoken nor felt; a place where love permeated and enveloped all—in short, the happiest days of my childhood.

Noteworthy Features:

  • Handcrafted of Weathered-Copper
  • Windmill Vanes Rotate to the strains of "The Impossible Dream"


While I am tempted to classify this lovely piece as "New," I cannot, in good conscience, so do. For you see, I possess precious little information as regards its age. From all appearances, it does, indeed, appear "New" and it may well be so, yet it is quite possible that that which I perceive as recently created is the result of the tender care and attentiveness of its previous guardian. As a result of its immaculate condition in combination with my ignorance as to its date of creation, I shall classify this Handcrafted, Weathered-Copper, Musical Windmill as "Like New."


Unlike Alladin's magic carpet, all that is required is the willingness to imagine and to dream. Dare you to dream such dreams? If so, let us begin our sojourn.

If you will be so kind, please wind the mechanism of this strikingly unique, Handcrafted, Musical Windmill, then, through the tempered eyes of sweet nostalgia, let us gaze longingly upon the weathered-copper vanes, seemingly bestirred by the subtle caress of a slumbering child's hushed breath, as they begin to revolve ever so gently above the pastoral landscape dreaming beneath.

As the dulcet tones of The Impossible Dream sigh, oh so softly, of a time now past, our eyes slowly close and we hearken to the ghosts of our forbearers. We may, if we are indeed so inclined, hear bespoken the faintly whispered hopes and aspirations of generation upon generation who dared to envision a scene such as this as their ideal—their Dream.

Quite unexpectedly, we discover that we are following a troop of bemused and bedraggled children whose chore, since the break of day, it has been to tramp the freshly plowed fields in order to break and render plantable an uncooperative legion of earthen clods equipped with nothing more than tiny hands and bare feet the color of burnished bronze. Far ahead, cajoling a recalcitrant mule who obviously takes no pleasure in his assigned task, with heavily calloused hands grasping tightly the sweat-polished and blood-stained wooden handles of a well-worn plow, treads the heavy steps of he who dared to dream such a dream.

Abruptly, our attention is diverted by the groans and squeals of wood upon metal to a small encampment of unpainted clapboard buildings—better described, perhaps, as little more than hastily constructed shanties—where, shadowed by the slowly rotating vanes of an ostensibly ancient windmill, toils without end she who, with heavily calloused hands and skin the texture of antique leather cracked and worn by work and weather, washes, mends, and darns threadbare clothing; she who splits wood that warmth (hope) might triumph over cold (despair); she who tends the vegetable garden, prepares the food, and cooks the meals that furrows may be plowed and clods busted; she who sweeps, dusts, and scrubs floors worn smooth by perpetual activity in a vain effort to forestall nature's endeavor to reclaim her own; she who, with a tenderness and love too often under-appreciated and apparently belied by her outward appearance and austere demeanor, is the center of this small universe—the sun, without whom there could be no life; she who also dared to dream such a dream.

What is that you say? “This is not a dream, but a horrible nightmare. These poor people are living under the most deplorable of conditions. Theirs is no more than a life of utter hardship, tedium, deprivation, and destitution; a primitive existence devoid of the most basic necessities and certain to be foreshortened by the ceaseless cycle of backbreaking labor. Surely, they must warrant governmental investigation and intervention. Are they unaware that a myriad of social entitlement programs have been enacted for their benefit? That a throng of social workers and low-level bureaucrats armed with well-meaning beneficence and tax dollars await the opportunity to replace their pride, honor, and integrity with public assistance and dependency? Know they not that they are in danger of losing their children to foster care and their home to condemnation?”

Lest we be found guilty of a rush to judgment, let us gaze once more upon the scene which we had, indeed, hoped would prove far more idyllic than disturbing.

You will note that darkness has fallen and our family has taken refuge within the walls of their home, albeit quite humble. It appears that they have recently completed their evening meal and are now gathered around the potbellied stove. Candles and kerosene lamps cast shadows that flicker and dance over the room and its inhabitants. Notice the children who, being well-scrubbed and warmly clothed, sit in an ill-formed circle upon the spotlessly clean floor. Although they possess neither television nor video game, they laugh and play one with another. Their eyes sparkle in the candle light and it is obvious that their joy is genuine.

He and she who bear the brunt of the "backbreaking" labor now sit side-by-side in hickory rockers made possible by nature's abundance and the willingness of those self-same calloused hands. Grown comfortable by countless evenings such as this, the chairs rock quietly as their occupants, obviously quite at ease with one another, appear lost in convivial conversation—a conversation which, at times, is soft and intimate, yet marked by bursts of mirth and animation. We hear no litany of complaints; no recriminations; no expressions of disappointment; no list of wants and desires. Perhaps, most striking is the absolute contentment with which they fill this sparsely furnished room and the unquenchable love that radiates from their hearts and enfolds all within its confines.

They are, without equivocation, materially and technologically deprived. They lack all that we deem fundamental to our health, happiness, and well-being. Yet, they possess, and that abundantly, that which all seek and too few find—love, peace, joy, and contentment. They have discovered the shortest distance between a man and a woman; between parents and children; between creature and Creator. They have discovered that their happiness lies not in that which they possess, but in that which they have to give—pure, unconditional love. They have discovered that a love that is unfettered by wants and desires is the only genuine love, and that, therein, exists the only true happiness.

Upon the completion of some rather intensive soul searching and often painful introspection, I cannot help but wonder, “Was this really such a bad dream?”


Although young children may well, and understandably so, become entranced by the potentially mesmerizing effect of the revolving windmill vanes in conjunction with the subtle tones of The Impossible Dream, please do not yield to their soulful entreaties for proprietorship. This piece is created entirely of copper and, therefore, is possessed of sharp corners and edges. It is, quite simply, not a toy.


*In the event that you are possessed of an inquisitive nature, it will undoubtedly interest you to note that windmills have been operating in Europe since the 12th century AD when, it is believed by learned historians, that Crusaders returning from the Middle East brought with them the secrets of wind power. Persian sources indicate that windmills were in use as early as the 7th century BC.

Once as common as barns and for many years a fixture throughout rural America, water-pumping windmills made possible the farming of vast stretches of the North American continent, including much of the Midwest, Southwest, and Great Plains. Without these towers of wood and steel, agricultural development and railroad expansion (steam engines require substantial amounts of water) would not have been feasible. And it was not only water pumps which windmills powered, but also grain and saw mills as well as the turbines and generators essential to the production of affordable electricity.

While the traditional windmills that dotted America's landscape for over 120 years are vanishing, they are being replaced by the aerodynamically designed wind turbine generator. Commonly installed in arrays known as wind farms, they can generate power up to 1,120 MW (a typical nuclear plant has a rating of about 1,100 MW). Scientists estimate that by the middle of the 21st century as much as 10 per cent of the world's electricity could be provided by wind generators.

**We sincerely regret that as a result of the high-gloss finish of this piece in combination with ambient light, camera flash, and the reflected images of the surrounding environment, the photographs hereupon presented are woefully inadequate in that they fail utterly to accurately portray either the purity or the clarity of this item.

Condition: Like New Our Price: Sold

Specifications: 1

Quantity Available:
  • One
Date of Creation:
  • Unknown
  • Unknown
  • China
Maximum Height:
  • 17 inches
  • 11 1/2 inches
Maximum Depth:
  • 6 inches
  • Weathered Copper
  • 1 lb. 7.2 ozs.
  • Complimentary when shipped to a destination within the USA
  • The photographic representations of "Handcrafted, Weathered-Copper, Musical Windmill," which are displayed in various locations throughout this site, were effected by means of a FujiFilm FinePix 2800 Zoom digital camera with a resolution setting of 640 x 480 pixels. Although we craved and, therefore, experimented with higher resolutions, the resulting page load times proved insufferable to all but the most resolute of our visitors.
  • 1We have, to the utmost of our abilities, endeavored to ensure that all descriptions, depictions, representations, and measurements are honest, accurate, and unabridged. Utilizing fully the resources and equipment available to us, extensive and exhaustive research has been conducted on each object listed. While we cannot guarantee that absolute precision has been attained, we certify, with neither hesitation nor reservation, that our very best efforts have been expended in an attempt to realize this paradigm.


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