When I launched KintlaLake Blog, my family and I lived across from an abandoned farm -- a big frame house and dilapidated outbuildings surrounded by fields and woodland. After dinner my wife and I often retired to our front porch, sat silently and drew peace from the scene.
Today, on an impulse, we drove by our old place. Glancing over at the farm on the other side of the road, we gasped -- it's gone.
The ground was roughed-up and leveled where barns used to stand. A bulldozer sat idle on a trailer behind a demolition company truck, parked about where the foundation of the house had been. There was no trace of an enormous oak that once cast its shadows on the lawn.
This forsaken family farm always was, to me, a sad sight. Now it's sadder still, eased a bit by my wife's perspective on the razing.
"It's ok," she said, "That was our place, our landscape. It's ok now."
She's right, of course. For my part, I'm glad that I took the time to capture some purposeful images of those barns.