Often in my visits to farmhouse ruins, I find myself meditating on these words by Robert Frost. It's too easy for me to fall prey to romanticism, to look at decaying homes and feel a melancholy ache for them. Frost's words remind me what a narrow and human-centric view that is, however; for as these old houses decay and sink back into the earth, Nature is simply reclaiming what's rightfully hers. In the Springtime especially, they burst with vitality... the songbirds rebuild their nests in rotting rafters, chipmunks emerge from slumber behind walls and mouldering sofas, while the new vines and wildflowers venture up against this makeshift arbor. I felt so rejuvenated and fresh myself as I listened to the drip-drip-drip of melting ice upon buckling floorboards in this hillside Italianate manor. This house must've been lovely to us once, but now it's lovelier to the wild things :)
It's a fascinating place, very far gone in decay but rife with period charm.
I'll leave you with a snapshot from my car.
No snow here... looks like Spring has found us in the Green Mountains!! :)