We stumbled across it on our walk. A lovely beacon from another world. From the old photograph pasted on the sign we could see the rest of the building that was attached. A hotel and restaurant to greet wagons of visitors and passerby’s stood in rustic strength, no longer there. Only the original form of the building breathes softly in the wake of modern society. The barn and the young man in the photo no longer there either. A busy road and Hobby Lobby stand in now.
The structure remaining became the post office. Its wooden floors marked with feet of a century and a half of good folks and their stories, whispers, dreams, ideas. The wood stove stands cold now. The old building rests but its spirit is very much alive. An old timer who in its cracks and crevices can tell you a tale or two if you were to sit a spell. If one is very quiet they can hear the swish of dresses on the polished floor, the fiddle playing, smell the fresh meal coming, wave at the gent taking your horse, and sit by the fire to warm yourself.
These old relics have a life all their own, one I hope you will note next time you come across one. Their stories timeless in the heart. Tip your hat as you meander by.