Jessie’s childhood memories paint a dreamy picture of life at Decew Falls, but she was not the only one charmed by its beauty. Thomas Wilkinson, a watercolour painter and photographer from Hamilton, also found inspiration in the landscape and daily life at the mill.

A lifelong friend of the Morningstar family, Wilkinson created numerous watercolour paintings of the area, and many of the earliest photographs in the Morningstar Mill collection are attributed to him. Beyond his artistic work, he also penned a poem in the early 1930s which offers another vivid portrayal of life at the mill. Apparently, Wilson was quite the storyteller!

One interesting aspect of the poem is how language has evolved over the past century. With this in mind, I’ve included both the original transcription of the poem and an AI-generated ‘Gen Z translation’ (courtesy of ChatGPT) for a playful comparison, alongside historic photos from the collection.

My dear Morningstar;

Though absent and far away from all at Decew
Yet often I find, you run in my mind
And saying, why, how do you do?

I see the old mill, and the house on the hill
And the children lying around, or play their tricks, or feeding the chicks,
While Jack barks off with a bound.

And it gives one pain, when I think of the lane
All checkered with sunshine and shade
or when all aglow with the sun sinking low
And the light just beginning to fade.

Then I turn to the mill, but that too is still
For there your days work is over
And down by the barn you are spinning your yarn
Ah, how I perceive you are in clover

I see Griffiths eyes just beam with surprise
As you come to the end of your story
Now the excellent flour you grind by the hour
Could bring to you half as much glory

But the cow by the door gives a start and a roar
And you feel it is now time to stop
So you untie the rope on the bridge now you mope
To the field near the old blacksmith shop.

And now ended your tales, you pick up your pails
Before you get in a dilemma
Good night George and Bill*, just lock up the mill 
and away to the house to see Emma

The milk snug and nice is now packed on ice
And all other chores well over.

AI-generated 'Gen Z translation'

Yo, Morningstar—miss you, fr.

Even though I’m miles away from Decew,
You pop up in my head like, “Hey, what’s new?”

I see the old mill, the crib on the hill,
Kids just ‘chillin’, or pulling pranks with a thrill,
or feeding the chicks while Jack’s on a chase—
Pure vibes, man, what a place.

And it kinda hits when I think of the lane
Dappled in sunlight, then shadowed again.
Or drenched in that gold as the sun says goodbye,
With twilight just starting to creep through the sky.

The mill’s gone quiet—day’s work is done,
So you’re down by the barn, just having some fun.
Spinning your stories, lost in the flow,
Living the dream—yeah, I see you glow.

Griffith’s eyes go wide, he’s hooked on the plot, Your storytelling’s fire, no cap, he’s caught.
Forget that flour you grind all day
Your words hit harder, they truly slay.

But wait—the cow’s yelling, time’s running out,
You sigh, untie the rope, turn right about.
Trudging on back past the ol’ blacksmith shop,
One last errand, then time to stop.

Pails in hand, no time to stay,
“Yo, George, Bill, y’all good, All okay?”
Lock up the mill, then home in a dash 
Emma’s waiting, time to relax

Milk’s on ice, another day wrapped
Time to kick back

Carla Mackie is Historical Services Coordinator with the City of St. Catharines. Historical Services includes the Morningstar Mill, the Lakeside Park Carousel, and the St. Catharines Museum and Welland Canals Centre.