Day 250; Hunting… for rust(ic)

Day 250 of 365; Hunting for rust(ic)

Today I set out to look for abandoned homes/buildings and round barns! The trip was a HUGE success, to see photos taken with my camera, hop on over to my photography page on Facebook , click “Like” and look for the {Rustic} album!!!

Until you get over to my Facebook page, here are some quick images of my drive/the roads along the way, taken with my iphone;

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Day 227; A day in the past…

Day 227; A day in the past…

Sometimes, I wonder if I should have been born in a completely different time period, I am so drawn to things of the past…
I spent 3 hours today driving around country roads capturing images of times gone by…. The adventure took place in my car, with my (almost) 3 year old daughter in the back seat… we explored, and even got in some antiquing and plenty of fresh air.

Here are a few images from our day in the ‘past’ :

My beautiful daughter Camryn ....

Camryn inside of White Picket Fence Antique Mall

The most beautiful abandoned house... I would love to buy this and save it from rotting away!

I took all of the above photos using my iphone and also took plenty of images using my SLR Camera and I will have them posted up tomorrow on my Gallery Site, where you can view slide-shows, and also purchase prints/products.

Here is a poem I found that I love;


House I Once Knew
Written by Leo VanMeer 1907-2006 Used with Permission–Mary VanMeer

There are mars on the doors and walls
Its rooms are empty and wide.

Here and there is a broken pane
Where the night wind creeps inside.

The front porch has fallen to ruin
With vines in possession there.

A shed is tumbled and strewn
And rubbish is everywhere.

Somehow it softens in moonlight
And my fancy wanders free.

That old house is more than a house
It once was home to me.

I can see a place by the window
Where firelight once played inside.

I can picture the porch as it used to be
And grounds so clean and wide.

Doors with well-oiledhinges
Let in our willing feet.

With everything in place as it should
And everything trim and neat.

I see it in mellowed reflection
Until years have changed it to be

A house with a memory; it’s more than a house
It once was home to me.

I’d give so much to live again
In that house when it was young.

Then it knew our laughter and tears,
With its memory only begun.

I was unwise to have left it, I know
All I got for my pains

Was a heap of things I thought worthwhile
And desire to be back again.

It might be made home again, who knows?

I watch the moonlight slant through a tree,
And know that old house was more than a house.

It once was home to me.