Believe it or not, I am full of ambition to write and photograph and blather on. Just no time. I have been taking pictures again. Here are a couple for summer.
Oh, here's a little odd bit of writing for you too, in case you don't have enough to read on your computer:
Welcome to my Déjà vu.
(I just had to write this down the other day. I have thought about it, once in a while, for years. Don’t ask me why because I really have no idea).
I see in my mind’s eye a small house, badly built, higgledy piggeldy, alone on the top of a hill. The walls are made from various materials - salvaged bits, odds and ends. Where it is wood, it is brown but sun-bleached. Where it is stucco, dirt has collected in the swirls meant to be decorative. The roof is flat, though it slopes to the back.
A too-big window a picture window fills nearly one entire wall. There is a bulkhead at the back of the house, like a little shed with steps to the cellar. Though the foundation of the house is hidden by the grass and bushes, the lines of the house are straight and true, suggesting the foundation is sound. There is an old iron water pump nearly lost in the grass not far from the front door.
It is a fall day, but with humid summer air and a cloudy gray and white sky.
The front of the house, where there is a door at the top of three concrete steps, looks down the hill at nothing but hill and grass. The grass is uniformly long and gone brown, like straw. The wheaty tops of the grass bob in the wind, up and down, as the breeze, which is sometimes builds to a wind, rises and falls.
The front door is wood and was meant for an interior door. It has been damaged by the weather. Veneer is popping off all four of the panels. The steps are chipped and in places the aggregate shows through. There is a bald spot in the brown grass at the bottom of the last step.
There is only the house at the top of the hill, with the grass, and a few overgrown bushes around it. A few blowsy pink blooms still cling to the bushes.
?
As far as I know I have never seen this place, but I get a feeling about it sometimes, like a place I knew in some other time... Do we all have these places?
One more summery (weird) picture in keeping with the above and out:
