Daylilies riot along its sides in June and July, and the Virginia creeper is going for the roof, something that wouldn't happen if there were any people around to pull it down.
and the goldenrod says here I come, I'll grow right through your siding
and the barn says all right, I can't stop you. But I'm not afraid of you. It's the vines that frighten me.
The sun dapples some nameless material that covers a hole on a little shed, tarpaper, maybe, and inside the shed to my great surprise is nothing but an artificial Christmas tree, still strung with lights
and for some reason this moves me deeply; it makes the former inhabitants more real to me. Maybe they had gotten too old to handle a fresh-cut tree.
Another shed's siding flares out like a skirt saying Come on in possums and 'coons, there's shelter to be had.
and the lichens grow on Ohio sandstone on the spring house, before the vines cover it completely. I will come back again, in another season, to see what nature has wrought here, and I know it will be beautiful.
I wish this house to stand forever, but it's knowing it won't that moves me the most.
15 comments:
A few zicks of the shutter and we are brought, once again, into your world. Long may it spin.
I just love your poetry!
Amazing to see nature reclaim her own. Here's to hoping she continues to reclaim her own in spite of those dummies who don't care.
Lovely. I so admire your knowledge and eye. Thank you again for adding so much to my life. ( Yes, you do! )
There is something so intriguing to me about a bit of rural decay. Nice post.
I'm getting all misty over some old shacks.
Dang.
Do people actually plant spiderwort?
It is everywhere here, and when I mow it, it cleverly blooms at 6 inches instead of the usual 16ish.
I am filled with questions when I see buildings like this. Like what they did, what it looked like in it's hay day? I would love to smoosh my nose on the windows and peek inside. My curiosity runs wild. Neat post!
It's always so sad to see a lovely home abandoned and forlorn. It makes me want to adopt it, clean out the gardens and live there happily ever after. Would that I could! The spring house reminds me so of the farm I grew up on in Pennsylvania... I miss it.
Delicious.
This reminds me of one of my favorite childhood books, "The Little House" by Virginia Lee Burton. When I see a place like this, I always start dreaming of restoration or, if need be, moving it out of harm's way. Historic Preservation is the ultimate conservation method. Reduce landfill waste, reuse historic buildings in new ways, recycle historic fabric. Oops, I will get off my soapbox now.
Julie, have you seen this yet? It's a "Living Bridge" and I think you would LOVE it!! The resourcefulness of people to work with nature to solve problems of their very survival ~
http://www.snotr.com/video/7331/The_Living_Bridge
Enjoy!
Jackie
A quite perfectly situated house. I'd love seeing a place like this.
I love old abandoned houses. They do something to me.
Sadly, my ridge has lost two of those beautiful clapboard babies, both of whose roofs were long gone but whose architectural details were still lovely and sound. Both were burned to the ground by an arson in the last two months. Just big red ARSON posters taped to trees where the white farm houses used to be...although I have been watching them decay for 30 years, their disappearance is a heartbreaking loss.
xxoom.
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