I happened to catch this scene on my way to work. This is at an intersection I go through on every trip and yet I have never seen this horse being walked into the barn. I’ve never seen this horse on the property at all. Just goes to show you don’t know what will appear each day!
The bittersweet year of 2015 has closed, and 2016 is underway. One daughter returned to college today, the other will head off next week. One look at their rooms tells the story of stepping from the familiarity of child and young adulthood, and out into the world. Left behind are things too dear to discard, yet no longer really needed. Things that will be whittled down, boxed and become nomadic orphans moving from place to place all but forgotten. Even the dear items that went off to the first dorm room will have this fate befall them as the grasp of high school loosens and fades. I no longer know their classmates, or their classmate’s parents, all that has passed. So much is in flux at this time, the map not being the terrain I am seeing around me now.
This building is located in a town that made a name for itself making barrels. It has been an antique shop for as long as I have lived in the area. TAPS (The Atlantic Paranormal Society) did a show here, and though they didn’t find any evidence that this building was haunted, the Reed homestead, located out of the photo to the left, certainly gave them what they were looking for. As you can see this building is cantilevered over the falls, which send the vibrations up through your feet when you are in that section. Opposite this building is an old grist mill and on the other side of the water is a house that was once a tavern and inn. There are numerous old structures in this end of town along the old rail line in what was once a thriving industry, barrels were used for packing all sorts of things and Townsend was the barrel making capital of the world. A different world in many ways, and not so much in others.
Last year when I was out and about, hiking at will, I found a new place that I have yet to get back to in spite of good intentions. It was cold and icy, but snow free the day I went, the wind making a banshee cry as it came across the open ice the only sound breaking the silence. Then the snows came, and the access to so many trails was blocked. The spring and summer, and even fall went by without getting back to this trail. I know it is still there when I am able to get back to it.
I don’t get into my studio regularly right now. But I did end the year and start the new one with a clean up and rearrangement of the space. Still a bit more to wrap up, but the big part is done, and it feels good!
The act of crossing from the old year to the new is complete. Mists block us from seeing exactly what 2016 will hold, and soften our view as we look back to the year behind us. Off into the year we go, with hope in one hand and determination in the other to help us along.