The old cabin sits nearly hidden high on a Ridge overlooking a lake.. there are no roads only paths made by deer and a woman called Katiedid. they say she left home 30 years ago wouldn't go back.. lived off the streets. her grandma Lydia died in this cabin. in Late Autumn Katiedid can be seen walking from town carring a blanket a frying pan a fishng pole and suitecase.. throughout the summer i'm told she prefers to sleep beneith the 6th street bridge. Once winter sets in smoke will be seen from across the lake. if you get close enough you can smell fresh fish frying and sassifrass tea... strangers leave fine cloths fresh fruit milk and bread on sunday mornings... with notes inviting her to church.. as she hides in the attic...
Walkin around the old house i found a open window . ( her doors was bolted shut). a feeling of guilt overcame me as i took 1 picture.. I used no flash.. i was capturing the light from the other side.. and liked the darkness within this space... when i got home i lightened the picture And saw the Bible laying among the ruins.. it almost frightened me.. I felt a shock. of all things to be among dust and ruins within the trash. Animals have been there and crawled around the filthy floors... i did not expect to find a Bible there... a broken sliver of glass pointed to it.. Now this picture seems to haunt me brings me back again and again... searching for a message..
if you go out into the woods watch out for hidden things.. like Mrs poision ivy vines.... and all the mysery she brings... her leaves are smooth and shiny she hides ( she's hard to see....) she creeps she craws and climbs the walls.. watch out for leaves of three...
High upon the hill she stands built by long forgotten hands.. looking down upon the land she's holding on the best she can. it might be soon (it won't be long) she will fall she's not that strong.. if i could help her stand i would... but time has touched Her weatherd wood.
Today Summer found me Sitting in the tall grass over looking a hillside watching a bug fly ..... as the blue morning sky worked hard to lift late morning fog left over from yesterdays rain... i listened as Birds sang in trees after feasting on fresh berries thistles and seeds.. hot and sticky early August... and already i hear whispers in the wind... that too soon summer will end and seasons will change...
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