It’s a big, beautiful world out there, can we please stop screwing it up?
Driving the back way to work is a visual central Pennsylvania feast. It’s all welcoming hills and nature’s fecund blessing (major nerd points for anyone who gets that line), jam-packed with things like farms and trees and wide swaths of swaying grass…or sparkling snow, depending on the season. And I, of course, am drawn to…the things that are falling down.
There’s this one stretch of road that has a brick farmhouse, a little too close to the road, and a series of buildings next to and directly across from it, and I NEVER see anyone there. I never see a car, I never see smoke from the chimney or an open door, I never see footprints in the snow. The grass is always neatly kept, though, so someone’s looking after the place and that just adds to its mysterious appeal. That said, there’s a…shed? Shack?…that sits near this property and, I assume, is part of it, and it pulls at me every time I pass it.
Suffice it to say, the upkeep on the grounds doesn’t extend to the windows.
Once from the side, honey.
And now from the front.
I wonder what stories this building could tell.
For those who don’t live and breathe small British films, the line I referenced is from Cold Comfort Farm, a 1995 movie based on the 1932 book of the same name written by Stella Gibbons. It is hilarious and charming and has a phenomenal cast–Kate Beckinsale, Ian McKellen, Rufus Sewell, Stephen Fry, Joanna Lumley, and so on, and so on. Do yourselves a favor and get it, watch it, read it, enjoy it.
Here’s the actual line.