Visits to Louisa always include something fascinating that she's found on her explorations. Recently, she drove me along lonely gravel Pleasant Bay road, at the end of which sits this amazing old ruin. In spite of the utter and pervading sense of abandonment and decay, one could get an idea of what it must have been like when it was a working farm. Surrounded now by a tangle of overgrowth, the rooms and roof collapsing, there is nonetheless a feeling of dignity about the old place......
A fairly good sized house it was, impossible to tell how many rooms since exploring inside was impossible due to collapsing floors and beams hanging. Peering in the glassless windows and standing just inside the front door, however, one could see the lath and plaster structure of the walls, the remains of the main staircase and brick fireplace. Outside, the broken remains of the front steps led into a wide porch area. It was easy to catch an echo of times past here, of guests coming to call and being welcomed inside.
You can't help but wonder who lived here. How many rites of passage occurred within these walls, births, marriages, deaths? At one time such a large house must have had a large family living within it, children would have played on the lawn, the rooms would have echoed with their voices!
Since it's impossible for me to wander in and photograph such a place and not be at least half-alert to the possibility of a ghostly encounter, I did wonder when I checked out the following photo later. According to my go-to guy for paranormal information it may indicate the presence of a male spirit. I wonder if ghosts see their surroundings in the same manner as we do? Would spirits who may be residing here see the house as it once was, or do they see the ruined aspect of it? It seems kind of sad to imagine a ghost that once lived here in life wandering through these decaying rooms......
Note the little patch of light that's bi-sected by the slanted beam. A trick of the light, or the presence of spiritual energy?
One thing's for sure, they knew how to build houses in those days. We remarked to each other about the triple-brick thickness of the walls. The elements are wearing them slowly away, but it's hard to imagine a house built now-a-days lasting as long with no up-keep.
After checking out the house we worked our way through some undergrowth and found ourselves in a large field, which clearly had been used for crops up until quite recently. Across this stood the old barn, with a graceful old willow tree standing sentinel next to it.
The wind had died down by then and an oriole was singing its head off up in the willow tree as we approached. Again I got that sense of what once was, I felt as though we were walking in the tracks of perhaps generations of farmers who had tended this land. Once the barn would have housed livestock and stored all the implements used to work this farm. The air would have been alive with animal noises and the sounds of an active farm life. Now there was only the song of the oriole, and a sense of utter quietude.
I love barns. Check out the overhead beams of this one.
And the farmer's collection of screws and washers and all the odds and ends one would need during the run of a day on the farm would have been stored in jars, only the rusted lids are left, attached to the beam.....
As we walked back down the overgrown driveway to the car, we told the old house we'd be back, and said thank you for letting us look around.
To me, exploring an old place like this beats a trip to the mall any day of the week! And it's so nice to have a best friend like Louisa who feels the same way! To us, scrambling through brambly undergrowth and wandering amongst ruined houses and abandoned barns is all part of a great day!
