A very old shed and trailer on the edge of the field across from us were recently destroyed, repeatedly pounded into the earth. All those remnants of people, memories, laughter, tears, work, gone. It brought melancholy on, considering it, but this is the oblivion we are all assigned to, eventually. There’s a bunch, so most under the fold. The odd leather thing is a sheath, for scissors, I think. I rescued it, made me too sad to leave it. Click for full size.
© C. Ford.
Somehow, the cloth with the check-pattern is the one that brings the most melancholic feelings to me. It says there once was a home, there were people there once.
That’s the one does it for me, too. I always go back to that one. The small bit of paper behind is a bit of a newspaper recipe someone clipped.