When I was a child, my friends and I would ride our bicycles to the end of town and they would wait and gaze at an old mansion where the sidewalk ends. The old mansion, with its old architectural facets, almost as if it came from a time warp of a much earlier time. At the time, none of us knew who lived at the house, though there were rumored to have been an elderly couple living there.
One day curiosity got the best of us and my friends dared me to knock at the front door so that when the elderly couple answered, we would know for sure that the rumor were true. Several times I would walk up to the front door and knock, and although the door would always be unlocked, nobody ever came to answer.
This experience, like the majority of my childhood was focused on adventure and wonder, and of things unseen or simply ignored and overlooked by most.
In recent times I’ve been drawn to the locations which played pivotal roles in my development, and therefore remind me of my younger days. The draw to these places is magnetic, though obscure and unexplainable. Perhaps it is out of sheer curiosity, or perhaps I revisit just to see what has changed since childhood. The changes that occur often happen slowly, hardly noticeable, and from my perspective, nothing ever changes. Instead it is only me who has changed; I lived, I grew, I changed. I am a completely different person now than when I first visited this old house, now close to thirty years ago. Thoughts of my experiences from childhood dance on a stage of memories, as I thought of all the times my friends and I would visit this place, knock on the door, and eventually leave without an answer.
I still remember being a small child growing up in a great big world, especially the many times I sat alone in the school yard daydreaming and writing down plans for how my life would be. I always needed time on my own; time to reflect, time to write, and time to dream; these were the snapshots and memories, and days of my youth.
When I was a child, I spent the majority of my time focused on my future, whereas as an adult, I spend the majority of my time wondering just how I came to become the person that I am today. It seems that over the years, the one thing that remains constant is my quiet curiousity, my need for constant intellectual stimulation, and personal reflection, and my desire for new experiences and adventure.
Colophon
The photography is that of The Eagles Nest.
Asides
Growing Up Introvert | I Used To Be A Habitual Trespasser | When Is It Time To Let Go
I am carried away with the locations like these. They play a vital role in my development.
I used to do the same thing with my friend. Biking around town and visit old mansions like this.
This piece brought back memories of my youth too. I’m an extrovert and I really loved adventure then too. Just curious to know if you ever got to meet the elderly couple then?
I never had the chance to meet the elderly couple who lived here. I found out later that they moved out of the house several years before my visit.
I used to bike around when I was a kid too. Reading your article took me back to a time when I was just allowed to be as carefree as I could be as a child.
I also constantly reflect on my childhood and how it shaped me as a person. It’s good to be curious and ask questions because you will then uncover more in life and feel more gratified. Beautiful photos, thanks for sharing.
I agree thus the phrase strolling down the memory lane comes to play, pictures are there to remind us that we lived and had life.
The exterior of the house looks amazing. However once that I saw the interior, I felt something different. The house has a many stories to tell! This house served as my inspiration for my new story.
This seems nostalgia for me!Nowadays children are always at their mobile phones or computers and dont have a real connection or interaction with real humans.Love this blog btw!
A sense of nostalgia of a long gone childhood, perhaps? I like that kind of feeling.
Unfortunately when I was a child, I didn’t have any girl friends to explore places with – most kids in our street were boys. And they really weren’t kids who would easily treat me as part of their pack. You are very lucky to have shared such experiences with your friends.
I love the shots, just even through looking at them one can paint a story in their head and think of the many memories that may have been shared by the family or families that may have lived in such abode. I’ve read a few of your posts and I appreciate your style of writing wherein you put great shots to give a visual experience to your readers.