Search This Blog

...a glimpse into life on Vancouver Island, needle felting, photography, food, gardening, etcetera...etcetera
"Happiness always looks small when you hold it in your hands, but let it go, and at once you learn how big and precious it is."
Maxim Gorky

Thursday, September 21, 2017

Tiny noises...

Past rusty railroad tracks...
 ...up the unused drive...
 ...where once you could hear voices and farm plows, 
it's only the sounds of us and the pups and the birds.
 We meander where busy lives once existed...
 Sapsuckers are the busy ones now...
 The colours, the textures of the past greet us at the gate...
 Someone long ago took time to plant these wee autumn crocus' and 
for many years watched them come up every September...
 These are scenes from a life abandoned...
 Tiny noises play in our heads...
 ...the low of cattle, the cluck of chickens
 For a hundred years this was a place...
 ...linked strongly to a life of farming
 Now weathered and disappearing...
 What happens when lives fade away?
 It was a home...
 And as always we look closer...
 try to hear those distant voices...
 Wishing the grasses would rustle up the story through the breeze...
 But the sounds grow fainter...
 The past keeps her stories to herself for now
 But this life abandoned has had some visitors today, who think about it, 
wonder and maybe keep the tiny noises turned up again, just a notch or two.

1 comment:

Limner said...

Such a moving post. The images are so sad and beautiful and conjure up enough what-might-have-beens to fill a book. Stories begin to take shape on their own. Abandonment is the first word that comes to mind. Then vandalism opens a door to an avalanche of other possibilities--another never ending story.

I was with you albeit hovering and looking over your shoulder. But you had me with the first photo. :) Thank you. I've had a marvelous adventure with you just now.

Be well.