I am not sure what it is about an old abandoned house or barn… that makes me pull my car over to the side of the road and shoot it. But I always do.

If some friends are with me…. they usually comply. My really good friends… the one’s who know me well… usually SUGGEST we pull over. It makes me smile to think about this.

But back to the house.
I don’t know what my big interest is. Clearly, it has been abandoned for junk. There is no longer a purpose. No one wants it any more.

Yet…. I think there are a lot of memories in those walls. Happenings. Good things, bad things. People from all different walks having lived there. A farmer, or preacher, or salesman, or drug dealer.

Who knows.
I don’t.
But I think it is the intriguing mystery that attracts me to a certain house. Sometimes, I even get a “feeling” about it.

I can imagine it vibrant and full of life. Beautiful and kept. And now… even though it is old, worn out, and left to wither… it has a beauty all its own.

I find a certain splendor about this… and at the same time… a sadness.
This old house.  If these walls could talk.   Anything… might have happened there. And I am sure that some of it…. did.

“Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.”  – Soren Kierkegaard