I was driving down I-81 to North Carolina from Luray, Virginia.  There was 3-4 inches of snow on the ground and high up on rolling hills sat beautiful old farmhouses surrounded by white fields.  Old farmhouses cause something in me to stir with their combination of simple charm, fading grandeur, hard work, and a sad sense that the good times lay behind them.

I’m torn between wanting to escape modern life while knowing it’d be impossible for me to do so.  Life needs to be simpler than we make it.

I can’t take credit for any of these shots – I stole them all from Flickr.  I need to start getting my camera out more often.



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One response to “Farmhouse

  1. I really like this post. It reminds me of a post I did on an old blog that I (ironically) abandoned some time ago .
    To quote what I said there, “Though ravaged by time and weather and acts of history, reduced to mere shadows of their original glory, ruins still awe us. Though they have fallen, their glory cannot be fully put out. Maybe we still like to see these ancient sites, though they are abandoned and crumbling, for the same reason that Christmas continues to move us. They call us back to our former glory. They remind us of ourselves. Something in their desecrated histories resonates with our own. We sense we are connected to the stories of these places in a drama that continues to unfurl. For we, too, are “glorious ruins”, except of course that unlike most of these grand monuments, we are being renewed and restored.”
    Anyway, there’s more if you’re interested, (, but I really like this post. I always get nostalgic about old farmhouses, too. 🙂

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