Old homes built in the late 18th century and 19th century, especially all white ones out in a big open field have such a wonderful affect on me. I am equally filled with joy, longing, and a bit of sadness.
This estate in Hopewell, Oregon has long been abandoned and I wonder about its past inhabitants. Who were they? Were they happy? Why did they leave? Our friends from Type A Press showed us this home and we were so delighted to visit her for awhile.
I am so very fond of symmetrical farm style homes. I’m not an architect expert so I’m not sure what style this home is. I just assume it’s a farm house with some Victorian influences. There were some no trespassing signs, but it was so very easy to just go up to it. To make believe for awhile. Naturally I ignored said signs.
For a brief moment we were there. In the 1850s, a bundle of wildflowers in our arms, trying to find respite from the summer heat. A carriage makes its way down the dirt road, the hooves of horses kicking up dust and flecks of soil. Our cheeks bright red from the warmth of a summer day.
We run down the path to greet old friends. “At last, at last! You’re here! We have so many things to say, so many things to do. Come, let me take your hat. We’ve set up a picnic on the hill!”
Isn’t it so wonderful to come across these places on Earth and be transfixed by them?