not very far from my home -
perhaps twenty kilometres across rolling hills, farmland, dense woodlots -
is a magical place called lang pioneer village. 
on a blustery autumn day,
under a cloud-filled sky,
i walked through the village.
no one was there.
it was absolutely still
but for the wind.
the wind ran
thin and silvery through the trees
passing soft and dusty
across the pathways
between the houses.
the leaves danced
red, green and yellow
hand-over-hand.
i was drawn to the windows.
who else has looked in . . .
who else has looked out . . .
these thin
ripple-glassed
windows?
32 comments:
I like these windows, Steven, and your thoughts which beckon our own personal icons. I had a student once who occasionally had Grand mal seizures. We were painting outside for a week on the big island of Hawaii. She had expansive landscapes to paint but she chose to look into a church window and subsequently out the back wall window, much as your first and last photos indicate. It comforted her- this threshold that a window presents to the viewer. It works both ways as you suggest. Thought provoking post...
A place where spectres from the past live in peace, it seems...
Love the wondering at who has looked in or out of those windows. All the lives that are lived while we are busy living our own; all the lives lived before and after us! This is almost like one of your river postings, without the water... grand pictures as always.
Linda and I toured the Lang Village last year and our grandson is going for a class visit on Monday.
It is a special place that helps give a context to our lives.
And the buildings have wonderful windows.
hi barry - you were there! it's a beautiful place and it was strangely more real to me to be there without piles of other people. there were no people working there either. it became a village. asleep. waiting for winter. have a peaceful day barry. steven
hi pauline - there are countless stories on either side of those windows. novels even!!! have a lovely sunday. steven
jinksy it is a very peaceful comfortable place. the setting is gorgeous - by a river and surrounded by a low ridge - and the village itself has a kind and gentle feeling about it that is sometimes missing form such places. have a lovely sunday. steven
hi richard - i'm drawn to drawing, paintings and photographs of and through windows for the very reason you describe here. there's something comforting as in a threshold. of being on a cusp of sorts and then knowing that in that thin sheet of glass is stored all the before and afters, the what was and could be's, the wish i may, wish i mights of lives lived long ago. have a sweet sunday richard! steven
These are great shots steven. I always find there is such mystery and nostalgia in photographs of windows and doors. Great composition.
hi bonnie and thankyou very much! i have memories through some very old windows (my eyes) that are tickled by looking through the old windows on houses. it's the echoes i love!!!! have a sweet day in quebec. steven
Hi Steven,
Back in the 1980s I traveled often to New England to buy merchandise for my antiques store, taking my then 8 year old daughter along. Between stops we would take in historical sites and the one that has stuck with me most is Deerfield Village in Massachusetts. One moonlit night, Indians paddled silently down the river and kidnapped the village's women and children, most of whom were never recovered and lived out their lives with the tribe.
I remember speaking in hushed tones and walking softly, thinking of hearts that were forever broken.
What beautiful photos!
Hmmm, you and I must've been separated at birth, for I too find myself "wondering" about things like that. We have many antiques in our house, of the old oak farm house style, and I wonder who sat at our dining room table? What kind of pies were baked and kept in the pie safe until company arrived?
Please keep taking us on journeys where the imagination is allowed to be our companion. :)
hi golden west, i nipped across the net to look at deerfield village. it's beautiful!! your story is compelling and the question you ask even moreso. i cannot begin to imagine what that must have been like for all involved. have a lovely day. steven
oh hope thankyou!! when i consider the stories contained in my own home and then think of the families that have passed through here it makes me wonder at the essence that is left behind of who and what we are.
my imagination is one of my best friends.
steven
It's important to be in touch with the past. We live in such relative luxury now it's hard to imagine that those people who actually lived there also felt they had a fair amount of luxury, a sturdy house with glass windows.
Honestly, with people apparently free to come and go, I am surprised because of vandalism down here. You would have had broken window panes, and if you had looked inside, down here, the inside would be wrecked.
I am thankful to know you are way behind us in this category.
Beautiful images Steven ~ very metaphorical ~~~ MCJ ~
Windows are the eyes to the soul of a house, don't you think? What a perfectly peaceful way to spend a blustery day. That red window is stunning against the gray beams. It would make a fantastic holiday card, Steven. Happy Sunday to you, dear friend! ~x
What a lovely, warming post Steven. It seems we all have an affinity to windows and doors. It has made me think about our little cottage and who lived here before. I can imagine a solitary lady sitting, looking out of some of those windows in your photos. I especially liked:
the leaves danced
red, green and yellow
hand-over-hand.
They do dance hand over hand, don't they? Lovely words.
This sounds like a wonderful place. Great photos! Ahhh..that third window...it is as if you went right inside my daydreams and plucked out my dream window - gingham curtains and geraniums (at least that is what they look like) on the sill. Lovely.
I love looking through windows. When I was in London I'd walk around at night glancing up through open windows to see how other's lived and how beautifully they decorated.
much love
Wonderful post Steven.
I noticed your comment above,
"my imagination is one of my best friends"
You keep good company friend.
Enjoy your SUNday.
hi ellen - i agree. the sense of living in luxury that would go with having glass windows. to live in a small prosperous community and to enjoy an abundance of fresh food - the village had its own mill - must have been something special. thanks for the comment!!! steven
hi abe - this is a really lovely community with its fair share of issues but also blessed by genuine goodness. lots of genuine goodness. have a lovely sunday evening. steven
thanks mcj - i'm glad you enjoyed them. steven
willow for me windows and doors tell much of the story of a house. the front entrance tells much about a home. thanks for the kind comment. i'm thinking that some of my images will become a calendar and some will become cards!!! have a lovely sunday evening at the manor. steven
oh bt you're such a romantic!!!! i love the little picture that comes with your comments!!! steven
jenny stevning - they were geraniums and gingham curtains and the inside was simple and cozy - exactly as it should be!!!! a great place to create art, play music, write, bake, think, and whatever else comes to mind. have a peaceful sunday evening. steven
stacey j that's one of my favourite big city pastimes - to look in and see how people live their lives...... people watching in big gathering places is spectacular fun. steven
thankyou liza - imagination has been my friend since i was very little and has become moreso as i've got older. it affords me glimpses of what's possible, sometimes even what's necessary!!!! have a peaceful evening. steven
"...the wind ran thin and silvery through the trees..."
May I use that line sometime on my blog, Steven? With proper attribution, of course, and a link back to this post.
I love love love it . . .
Hi Steven~ I love the log cabins! That really is pioneer vintage! I wasn't clear if this was a village that people went into, bought old-fashioned things, saw pioneer crafts? Or were the buildings truly empty? Either way, they must echo the spirits of the ages from long ago. Beautiful!
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