But maybe I should. Even though I live smack in the middle of suburbia, every neighborhood has a touch of something exotic -- or at least something mysterious.For instance, the lot kitty-cornered across from our place, at the edge of a private road.
During late summer and early fall, the whole area becomes a prime spot for berry picking, since the edges of the property have grown wild with blackberry bushes.
In the late fall, however, when the berries are gone and the leaves drop, revealing only the bare thorny brambles, the lot looks very different. More foreboding.And you can't tell from this picture, but in the distance, behind the brambles and the overgrown trees...
...hidden in the shadows of the forgotten evergreens and shriveling apples, there's a little two-bedroom house. At least, I'm guessing it's a two-bedroom house. But it might be something more unusual than that.It's not for sale. There are No Trespassing signs posted. And as the old peddler once said of Wonka's factory, "Nobody ever goes in... and nobody ever comes out."
I've often wondered about who owns the place, and why they choose to do nothing with what has become a potentially valuable property, instead essentially allowing the house and the grounds to go to rot.Do you wonder, too?
I suppose only the apples know for sure.
I love places like this. They are mysterious enough to fuel the imagination. There was one in Atlanta you could only see from one place on the highway. It was built to look like a cross from above... but who was viewing it? It looked a hundred years old, in the middle of the city, surrounded by dense growth, only the roof showed (from above). Great post! Got my juices flowing this morning! :)
ReplyDeleteThere was a yard like this "down the road a piece" from me growing up. The odd thing was it wasn't an old house, it was only a few years older than mine (my parents, built in 1968). It was a large two story white sided house that reminded me of Tara, set on a wooded lot. For some reason the folks that lived there never cleared away the underbrush, and the yews planted along the foundation grew tall and wild. I always thought a lost princess from a fairy story lived there, held captive by a wicked sorcerer. Thanks for the memory :)
ReplyDelete