Abandoned House or Church?

Driving on a Country Road in Vernon County, Wisconsin, we drove by this house when I saw it was abandoned. Brick House in Vernon CountyI yelled at the top of my voice for my sister to stop, so she did a quick louie in the road going like a bat out of hell and turned around so I could get out and take some photos. That’s what I call sisterly love! Well, I really didn’t have the right kind of shoes on but I trudged through the the tall grass. I was happy just to get some pictures from the outside though now I wish I would have been a little more adventurous and tried to get in. Generally, not my thing, though. And with an antsy sister telling me to hurry up, well, I did what I could. On the other hand the brambles and vines were covering most openings of this grand lady, so I took as many shots as I could from the front and around the back. I like what I got.

A friend of my suggested that this is a church and not a house, because of the two separate doors in the front.  He said that one may have been for women and the other for men.  It is definitely, and unusual set up for a home and the windows sit up high like they would in a church.  Seems it is probably a church, or a meeting house.

Already seen

I am having incredible deja vu this evening.  But, I just can’t put my finger on any of it.  It is like a series of already lived experiences and moments racing through my mind.  I think it is time to rest.

The Passing of Time

Little Cemetery

When winter passes
and spring flies by,
summer makes a short stop,
to say hello.
And up starts autumn,
once again.
Then, everything dies.
A complete cycle
is made,
time after time.
And with each season,
you return to a familiar place, but each time,
everything has changed, a little bit, or, maybe a lot.
You remember, something,
someone…
and the emptiness inside of you…
well, it fills up with sorrow,
and sadness overwhelms you,
but, you fight back the tears with the surrounding beauty, and
the colors wash your eyes, and you forget.
And every time after, you think you are alone, in a place,
and maybe you are, and maybe you aren’t.
A new face, or name,
a fresh encounter
You never know…
No one really does…
It’s the passing of Time.

GRB

Before I know it…

…this year will be coming to a close.  Here we are in September and so much has happened since January, 2014. I have been to so many places and done so many things.  January 2nd, we managed to arrive to Philadelphia, along with the storm called, Hercules. Actually, we arrived a few hours before this great storm, just in time to avoid travel in a blizzard.  Comfortably settled into the hotel in the evening, it began to snow.  We decided to venture down the street to a highly recommended restaurant called ‘The White Dog Cafe’, on Sansom Street.  By the time we left the restaurant, the storm was really picking up.  I took some exquisite street scene photos of the lights, the falling snow on the street.  Also, a few of some people, especially of a happy girl drinking a soda or coffee in her hand.  She was all bundled up in her jacket with a furry hood covering her head and framing her face. She posed for me and smiled splendidly.  A lovely example of positive energy.  The whole scene on an old street of brotherly love with picturesque street lamps was beautiful, not only because of the way it looked, but because of the surrounding silence in the night, with the snow falling and the magical tendency snow has to make everything silent, as it blankets the environment.  It softens the earth.

The next day, Philadelphia was an absolute frozen mess, with unplowed streets and subzero temperatures, which kept everyone inside.  I felt like the world had just ended and I was the only one left from humanity, walking around.  That is definitely a ‘forlorn’ sensation.   As I ventured along my way, eager to go to the old town where Independence Hall is located, I soon found out that everything was closed, practically, except for a few coffee shops, here and there, one of which I went into, hoping to thaw out my frozen feet.  I lingered there when I ran into a delightful, middle aged couple who were visiting from, at this moment I can’t recall, but it was somewhere in Europe.  They were very friendly.  They were here for a wedding and quite shocked by the weather.  When the Philadelphians finally got up enough nerve to get out into the streets and open up the major visiting center, and the Liberty Bell, I too departed the café and began walking around the streets, taking photographs of the historic buildings and sites.  There was so much of interest; the old bank turned into a Portrait Gallery, Independence Hall, Ben Franklin museum, which I didn’t care for too much for its overly done approach at resuscitating a man’s character and creating a commercialized hero.  It contained very few authentic artifacts, one reason I like to visit museums.  We do this so much in this country, and mostly for the sake of historical men.  This is not to undermine the importance of historic accomplishment, but to just state my humble opinion of the unrealistic manner in which we place our ancestors on a pedestal, and fail to look at all aspects of their person.  I suppose we are all guilty of it.

In sum, what most impressed me about this visit, was walking around the empty streets of Philadelphia, and taking pictures as I navigated by foot, this very interesting city, of course, always looking for an opportunity to get out of the cold.

Without more ado on this subject, the routine of everyday life is beckoning me to move forward in time.  A new season approaches with mid September and before we know it, 2015 will arrive.  Oh me, oh my!  Without rushing the clock too much, I hope to be back with the events of the present year.  It’s hard to handle the rapid passing of time.

A little girl

I met a little girl yesterday in the locker room at the swimming pool.

She was sitting on the bench all calm and cool, and barely uttered a word.

She sat with her hands folded in her lap and just smiled as two younger women gleefully doted on her.  They might have been her aunts, cousins or older sisters.  One might have been her mother.

They told me her name was Alice and she was soon to turn three in a few days.

Then the talk of the birthday party came up and Alice began to open up, little by little. We talked about everyone who was invited and how excited she was.  She was going to have her grandparents and three friends.  She didn’t know their names.

Alice was the sweetest thing in the world.  I think of the goodness that awaits her, I hope.

She was extraordinary!

 

The random birds

I love the randomness of some birds, and the order of others that you see, when they fly, or perch. I guess fair and unfair, can happen in this way. Like good luck and bad luck. And then sometimes, there are outside powers in control, and some who are dependent on these powers, to make it fair. It should not be this way. They are not free, like the random birds.

Why?

Why do I create and then destroy? – Only to regret it later.

Why do I build and then take down, wondering what it was that I made in the first place.

Why am I always torn between opposing forces, searching for order, ending in chaos.

Why can’t I just accept things as they are and embrace love, without hate, without doubt, and bliss, without pain.

Why?  Such is my condition, I cannot escape.