Another abandoned house. Another lost story. I’ve explained before how I’m drawn to decaying, abandoned things. Every time I see a house like this I wonder what happened. I want to know what it’s seen. I want to know the lives that have been lived in it, the memories it keeps, the secrets it hides. Why did this house, and not some other, get left behind, forgotten? Why was this one left to rot? I’ll never know. I guess it’s the mystery of places like this that makes me love them. I also like the idea that I get to capture them and everything they keep secret with a photograph. I get to preserve what was once forgotten and lost. I get to keep something alive that was left to rot. And I’m not just speaking metaphorically here. I took a few photos of another abandoned house last year and a few weeks after I got the photos, the house was struck by lighting and burnt to the ground. The only thing that was left was charred pieces of wood and some bricks from the foundation. That house is gone forever, but it lives on in my photos. And I at least will not forget it.