One of my favorite abandoned houses and I’ve never stepped foot in it. There are no “No Trespassing” signs or boarded up doors holding me back. It would be easy for me to get in. I’ve explored so many other houses. But not this one. I don’t fully know why. But maybe it’s because I like not knowing what secrets it contains. I like being able to imagine what it’s like in there.
Found this gem the other day while out driving and knew it would hold a beautiful photo at night under the stars. Its all I could think about while at work, hoping the clouds would break and the stars would be bright. Just as I hoped the clouds opened the stars glowed and the moon made a guest appearance. I felt a little odd shooting this as its in someone front yard, but I couldn’t pass it up. I made it quick and was still able to get the shot I wanted.
It was only after I got home and viewed the photo, that I fell more in love. ‘1887’ is on the roof. Wow! What this little house has held, seen and will never share. 127 years. Unfathomable. The bricks still hold the words once spoke here. The windows watch new life come and go. The ivy grows stronger every year guarding and locking the hidden secrets never to be shared. The trees stand taller than the years before guarding and protecting.
Shot in awe on a country road, once slowly traveled by history.
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.