Like the seasons, I watched this old home always change. When I first visited alone many years ago, I had run away in fear when I discovered that one of the satanic cults known to be in the area had used this house for worship. They had drawn a pentagram into the living room floor, surrounded it by candles what appeared to be blood.
When I returned with a friend months later, it was clear that this desolate yet gorgeous old home was loved by someone. The damage the satanic cult had caused was not only completely removed, but the floors had also been mopped and waxed. I explored the inside of the home and found that it was still in perfect condition. It had some furniture left and religious frames hung off the freshly painted walls.
I continued to visit here over time and always noticed that someone had been trying to keep this house and the memory of whoever lived here alive. Broken windows would get boarded up, the grass would occasionally get cut and repairs were made inside. Seeing it was wheelchair accessible, I always assumed someone who lived nearby once looked after their older relatives here.
I found out years later that I was right in my assumption. This house is no longer here and has been intentionally burnt to the ground by the the adult grandchildren of the long deceased inhabitants. I found the house online and the grandchildren posted a photo of it in flames. They explained it had become unsafe, especially because it was a mess inside and the basement had flooded.
As I look at this photo, I can't help but wonder if the grandparents who once lived here admired these same views. I imagine an older adult bringing their wheelchair bound spouse onto this porch to drink coffee, admire the changing leaves, the brisk autumn air and talk about how blessed they were to live out their later years in such a lovely home with loved ones nearby.
I hope everyone enjoys their autumn as much as I imagine the people who lived in this house enjoying theirs. Happy First Day of Fall! 🍁🍂🎃