Thursday, August 7, 2008

The house next door



Sometimes when it rains it looks as if Mr Griffith's house is crying as the water pulls colour out of the limewash on the walls. Centuries of stories whisper from the stones, the voices of children grown old by the fires in the chimney fawr, cats who have cozied by the flames in the winter.
Once there were chickens here, and horses. Once an old badger made a home in one of the barns, a lame fox came to be fed in the late evening light. Now the grass grows long in the yard, but Mr Griffiths still feeds the birds and small creatures who gather around whenever he comes outside.

5 comments:

Tara said...

I love Mr. Griffith's house. Very cool!

ChrisJ said...

That is an extraordinary picture. it should be made into a card. How many houses can there be like this today?

Estorbo said...

theenk I lighe Meester Greeffeeths...

Hola, ChrisJ.

Rima said...

Wow, what an amazing house next door! :)

LadyBug said...

To the beautiful Ginger one's; do you follow the photographer or does the photographer follow you?
enjoying you blog muchly :)