When I ride past an old house like this, I’m drawn to the image. The architectural lines, the crumbling exterior, the welcoming porches, the trees framing and softening the landscape… And then my mind begins to imagine, “who lived here in days past? how many children played in the yard? did the family survive the hard times? did someone remember to go back and visit?”
This old house is in Cadley, Georgia. I don’t know anything about it, except the location. I stopped to take a photo one morning simply because it was there in its worn, aged beauty. Yet, to someone, somewhere, this house has meaning. Someone’s Grandma probably lived here!
I have noticed, in recent days, some activity around this house that suggests renovation. Oh, that we could look on all places and all people as something that has meaning to someone — something to respect and restore, to cherish, to ponder and to share.