Little House in the Big Woods

This little house sits off one of our back roads.  It and the accompanying barn a bit apart were long since abandoned and it is a decaying wreck now, slowly, slowly being reclaimed by the woods. 

Proof positive that Indiana wants to be woods and when left to herself will revert right back.

This place sits atop a high place and you can tell that it had been cleared at one time for quite a distance around it.   They probably raised cattle and had a tobacco field or two.   Maybe grew some corn.   

The roof and floor have completely rotted out and the rooms have caught the detritus of decades of landowners.

It had a pretty view out the back at one time where the hill falls away.

I loved the old wallpaper in this room.  The woman who last loved this house also loved flowers.  

There are giant old forsythias that bloom in tangles between the house and the barn.    There are wild and windblown rose of sharon trees out the back. 

There are probably surprise lilies that come up in August, hidden in the weeds, as there are by all the old houses out here. 

The windows were shot out long ago.  The walls are separating.  The siding is crumbling.   It's a crooked little house now, next to the crooked little barn,  melting and melding into the big woods. 

But once upon a time, a woman sat in a rocker on this front porch and shelled peas and listened to the birds.