As I drive down my favorite stretch of highway one early rainy morning, I notice a distinctive change in the landscape. Various sizes of heavy equipment, lined up as if they are a part of a planned assault on an unseen target. Perfectly in a row on this early morning they are motionless yet ready for orders from the man in charge. Little did I know, that was exactly what was happening.A few hours later I drive back by and the equipment has come to life. It looks like the person that bought the property has decided to have it timbered. This makes me sad. Companies that timber land usually leave behind an offensive looking mess. Oh well, it is theirs and they have the right to do whatever they want to with their property.
As the day progressed the sun began to shine, chasing the clouds and rain away. On my last trip down this stretch of road I notice something different and I slow down long enough catch a glimpse of a roofline, chimney and window. I didn’t blink, I didn’t breathe at least for 10 seconds trying to see the rest of what was hidden as I crept slowly past. My imagination was going crazy trying to picture the home that once was and still remained elusive behind those overgrown woods.
I couldn’t help but wonder about the family that built the house. Houses of this style were usually about 100 years old. Who had lived there? Who had died there? How many children had been born and raised in that house? What stories could the house tell about the people that lived there? Why has it been abandoned and forgotten?
I am eager with anticipation, like Christmas morning, to see what lies under the green foliage wrapping and the treasure inside the shade of the trees.
To be continued....