Friday, February 8, 2013

The Old Stone House



The perfect backdrop for our imaginations.....pioneer mother rocking her babies......an iron kettle of stew bubbling over the fire.....winter winds blowing and family cuddled beneath homemade feather ticks.  A time forever gone.  The simple, the humble, the hardships, the endurance, the struggle, the love...

Only shadows remain.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

If the walls could talk, what a story they would tell.

Nature Weaver Gypsy said...

Wouldn't it be something....that's the same thought I always have when I see these old foundations crumbling to nothingness. So much family history, emotions, struggles, and vanished hopes. The older I get the more I relate to these forgotten monuments.