As a monument to the masons who built her, this home, of over a 100 years still stands in beauty and grace. Located on the west edge of a valley, the view from the second story would be breathtaking, as the sun rose.
While the home is a ruin and no longer livable, it continues to speak of the present, past.
(A rework of an older image to enhance the brooding nature of the clouds)
With Gratitude I add the following from
yabbles
future of the past-
the air is stale, the light is dim still its not hard to see that once upon a time this house it was the place to be
walls that once were whitewashed are now a sooty grey muralled ceiling reveals slats where plaster's given way
ornate molding trimming the base around the chandelier with cobwebbed tapers half way burnt on every crystalled tier
empty shelves where novels lived covered with dirty crust now are homes to mice and rats and bunnies made of dust
the marble floors once used to shine in a majestic way it has been many years now since they've seen the light of day
there are portraits still left hanging though most faded and torn depicting scenes of men and women their expressions forlorn
perhaps they knew what was to come of what things were to be did they see in their minds' eyes these things in front of me?
red velvet drapes have fallen down french doors come out of hiding showing the dead atrium with dry fount residing
wicker chairs now skeletal forms 'round table made of stone half the glass panes broken out flowers no longer grown
perhaps lords sat with ladies here to share a pot of tea or rather did they pass the time with a snifter of brandy?
only ivy flourishes here it splays across the walk this empty shell of memories if only walls could talk
what would they say, what do they know? my head with questions swells if i could get the ghosts to speak would they their secrets tell?
answers to my ponderances its clear i'll never know minute traces of lives once lived are all thats left to show
the way thing were in times gone by of things not meant to last this place of once upon a time this future of the past
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"It's as if someone were beating you with a stick and saying 'Your business is rejoicing, your business is rejoicing,' and you rise, shaky, and go marching off, muttering, 'our business is rejoicing, our business is rejoicing." ~Dmitri Shostakovich
now that... is an interesting house... I've never seen anything like that before... I'm naive in the area of houses. Again... you did a great job capturing this.
Wonderful shot. This must have been a beautiful old house in its time. These old stone houses were so cold in winter, the stones just radiated cold after they were cooled through and through.
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I was walking in darkness no light no sound , i try to shout but nothing came out, at last a drip was eared but i realized it was blood coming from my own hand, a flame sparked and there was light i woke up and realized its only a dream...
What an excellent picture - I can imagine how beautiful this must have looked when it was first built. I'd love to know about the family(ies) who lived here.
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If man could be crossed with a cat it would improve man, but it would deteriorate the cat.-- Mark Twain
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Comments
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"It's as if someone were beating you with a stick and saying 'Your business is rejoicing, your business is rejoicing,' and you rise, shaky, and go marching off, muttering, 'our business is rejoicing, our business is rejoicing."
~Dmitri Shostakovich
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I think difrently then other people, so you can never tell who I am by looking at the surface.
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I was walking in darkness no light no sound ,
i try to shout but nothing came out, at last a drip was eared but i realized it was blood coming from my own hand, a flame sparked and there was light
i woke up and realized its only a dream...
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If man could be crossed with a cat it would improve man, but it would deteriorate the cat.-- Mark Twain
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"Seeing" the unusual...EVERY DAY
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