I passed by this old house and decided to take a few pictures. The more I took the more interested I became. I couldn’t help but wonder how old it was and who had lived there.
As I looked at the old wood my mind started reeling. I was imagining a young man building it with the help of his best friend. Possibly preparing a home for his bride to be. Working on it every spare minute he had after a long day of farming. Young, strong and energetic with big dreams of his future as a married man.
Perhaps he carried his bride across the threshhold as they went through this very door. Later that same door would be slammed as they had their first fight and one left to go fume under the country stars and talk to God about what to do. Before long that same door would be gently opened back up, apologies made and they would hug and forgive one another. A few years later a midwife would enter and deliver their first of many children. Needless to say after that….well… that poor door would be swung open and shut many more times with the kids going in and out for the next twenty years.
Perhaps this was the bedroom of their children. Bedtime prayers were taught and favorite stories were read by the glow of an oil lamp.
What a back yard those children had. Mom watched them as she hung out the clothes and tended to the garden. They could spot daddy coming home and would run to greet him, racing to see who would be first.
This tree by the barn was just a sapling given to them as a wedding gift. Now the kids would climb in it while mom shouted …you kids be careful. They would hang for what seemed like hours with their legs bent over a branch giggling the day away.
This was a beautiful piece of property. I am sure that even if it wasn’t the way I imagined it…somebody was very happy here.
I suppose I should just stick to snapping a few pictures and not thinking so much. But you know…you just wonder.
I've Gone Country 