At the end of a long hike in the woods near our house, we found the old homestead we call The Daffodil House. Abandoned long ago, this house now stands--actually leans--in a secluded and beautiful spot. I imagine, long ago, that the farm wife who lived there planted a few daffodils so that she can enjoy the first signs of Spring with the lovely yellow flowers.
Now the house is sinking into to ground and the daffodils have taken over. The house leans to one side, being held up by a couple of trees that have embedded themselves into the side of the building. Windows are now small doors. If you peek inside, you see the detritus of long-gone residents, teenage parties, and careless hunters who have left evidence that people used to feel safe going into the house.
The wallpaper hangs from the walls. The couch has exploded and springs are everywhere. But the best site is the vast field of daffodils that have spread all over the area. Nature is taking it back.
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