On my way back from FRED's this morning, I decided to go home the back way. Those daffodils have come up year after year. People from all over come to take pictures in their beauty.
This old house sits cross corner from the daffodils. If it could talk, we might know who planted all of them. Or it might tell us that someone got tired of daffodils in their yard and threw a big handful of bulbs across the road into the woods. However they started, they are beautiful now. They go on and on in long stretches along this road.
Old houses always catch my eye. And then I start wondering... who lived here last? who lived here first? What kind of people were they? Old? Young? Healthy? Sickly? Why are these houses still here? Who owns them?
