A glance out my window reveals more than the turning of seasons—it offers a quiet conversation between past and present. On the glass shelf, a row of antique cranberry-glass tumblers catch the light, their delicate hue echoing the blooms of the camellia bush just beyond the glass. The repetition of color, a serendipitous outcome when the camellia is in bloom, feels like a whisper of continuity across time.
Three shelves of these tumblers belonged to my mother, a collection that once sat in the breakfast room window of the house I grew up in. Carefully handled through the years, their beauty endures. Like the historic buildings of Main Street, they are fragile yet resilient, treasured yet functional, a testament to craftsmanship that outlasts generations. In time, these beautiful tumblers will pass to my daughter, Claire, then to my granddaughter, Sarah Katherine, and one day to my great-granddaughter, Annaclaire. In the mystery of things, I like to think that my mother, Madeline, lingers with us in the light that fills this colored glass—a quiet, luminous presence across generations.
Early spring in Rocky Mount is a season of renewal, of second chances. It is the same spirit that drives my writing on Mainstreetrockymount.com. Preservation is not about standing still; it is about recognizing what can be saved and giving it new life. It is about repurposing, reimagining, and allowing history to find its place in the present.
Just as the camellia blooms against the late-winter chill, the buildings along Main Street are finding their way back to vibrancy. Their facades, once weathered and forgotten, are lighting up again—welcoming businesses, artists, and families into spaces that have been waiting to be rediscovered.
Through this window, I see more than the arrival of spring. I see the promise of what is yet to come.
Main Street Rocky Mount 