Attic finds from ancient times are very often a touching, even embarrassing experience: The look at the handwritten notes of an unknown person, who died around the middle of last century, offers an intense perspective of the past and of history. All those items of daily life, cobwebbed and covered with layers of dust in their long sleep! The enchanted light came from a narrow roof hatch and some cracked roof tiles; it gently touched the ancient pushchair and gave a haunting atmosphere to the abandoned room.
It has been a frosty weekend on the countryside: While chopping wood, I let my thoughts wander around. Later, I sat at the chimney for a while, listened to the sizzling noise of the fire; what a timeless moment of silence, once in a while the wooden balks and floors cracked slightly. As if the house itself was a vivid being, with a gentle breath in its sleep, suddenly stretching from time to time. What a pleasure to listen to these stories of their own! Told by the abandoned house itself – to the unexpected visitor, who didn’t come as an intruder but a cautious observer and explorer.
The two days have been a intense and sometimes grief-stricken journey: walking on tiptoe, deep into the history of the countryside, where so much remains of bygone family lives, dreams and wishes murmur and whisper – about shattered visions of being at home.
Photo: ©HeikeRost.com 11/2013 – All rights reserved.