All around the mill are ducks and pond and flowing water and trees and the comforting, rhythmic drone of corn grinding between stones. What could be more relaxing way to spend a morning?
When properly balanced, grooved, and maintained, millstones can last hundreds of years. Good ones were so valuable that millers often took them whenever they moved, building a new mill each time.
A stepped-down runoff like this weir can keep a stream working for the mill a long time; straight dropoffs ultimately undermine the river bottom and building foundation.
Outside, water diverted at the back of the building flows to the front to turn the primary driveshaft and wheel for the mill.
Inside, the same driveshaft sends a wide band of leather around another, smaller, shaft and wheel that actually turns the millstone.
Bob wears protection against the dust of milling. Behind him are the square hopper, where whole grain gets poured in, and the round bin surrounding the millstones. Grain gently falls through the center hole of the upper millstone, gets grabbed and smashed by the spinning stone, and works its way down the grooves of the millstones to the outer edges. Only the upper millstone spins, and it can be raised and lowered to adjust the fineness of the grind.
BONUS! Some interesting phrase origins from milling:
Wait your turn—a bag of grain to be milled was called a turn; when the miller had a lot of customers, they had to “wait for their turn” to go into the hopper.
Put your nose to the grindstone—to check or test something; a miller sniffs the stones for a burnt-grain smell, indicating that the grind is too fast. (The erroneous connotation of this phrase—to work hard—comes from a mix-up with the phrase “shoulder to the wheel,” in which a man exerts effort to move a stuck wagon.)
Grist for the mill—topics for gossip; grist is seed separated from chaff, ready for grinding between stones (or, in the case of words, between teeth and jaws)