Locked. Guarded. Secure.
I’ve never noticed this place. I think its funny how we notice things only when were ready. I’ve driven by here countless times, apparently not ready until now to see such beauty. As I walked up the lane I had a sense of violation. Not because it was illegal to be there but I felt as if I was violating privacy of someone. An odd feeling I’ve never experienced in a cemetery.
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.