Sunday, December 14, 2008


It stands nestled into the side of one of the highest mountains around. The view from the front looking out is simply stunning, surrounded by trees and other mountains on three sides and a sheer drop in the back down to a huge river below. I don't know how long it's been there, how long it's stood alone in the woods. At one time you can tell it stood majestic, tall, and well loved. Once painted a snow white the boards are now weathered and the paint peeling. Underneath the chipped paint it is now a soft grey from the years it's stood in the harsh weather. It has a wrap-around screened porch on three sides and is a towering three stories tall. It's porch is massive in size. Battered rockers with chipped paint and the colors almost gone still sit on the porch like ghosts of years past. Left alone and unused for many years. Who would leave such a house with it's contents still there?

The yard is filled with scraggly overgrown flowerbeds. Brick surrounding some and small tiny weathered picket fences around the majority of them. Laying over and into the once gorgeous beds full of blooms and colors. Now no color is there except for the barren browns and greys. The once colorful blooms are now dead and rotting.

There are no "No Trespassing" signs anywhere around. No sign of life for years and years. No vehicle tracks in the overgrown drive. So I enter the house with trepidation. The porch groans and lists somewhat as I walk onto it. I am overcome with sadness from deep inside. I walk to the front door, of which there are actually two. Which should I choose I wonder as I stand there. It's like the house is welcoming and asking me to come in. I choose the door on the right. It creaks open and I dust cobwebs out of the way.

The inside is a large sitting room still filled with antiques, quilts and furniture. Almost as if it's occupants are still there and might step around the corner any moment to greet your arrival. I stop and just stare lovingly at all the antiques. The room is full of them, all beautiful as if new and barely covered in a sheer coat of dust. Once more I ask myself "who would leave this behind"?

I continue my exploration of this amazing home. Wandering from room to room and floor to floor simply shocked that it remains the same as many years ago. Lovingly reaching out and touching a few of the things afraid they might disintegrate into dust at my touch. After wandering from room to room and continuing my exploration of the entire home I make a discovery.

It's actually four homes in one. The bottom most floor has two separate sides, with a door being the only thing dividing the two homes. Each side identical in build, with the furniture and decor being the only thing different. Same amount of rooms and same size. Each has an opening to the front of the house, and each having a door out onto the large decks in back. The decks are no longer there as weather and years have destroyed them. What is left simply hangs barely attached to the house itself. Its a drop off straight down into the cold, brown swirling river depths below.

The upper two floors are the same. Each one is separate living quarters. Once again the only difference is the furniture and the fillings. Why so many houses inside one large house? Why is everything left the same to stand alone all these years? Had several families of the same family occupied this home. Maybe grandparents on the bottom floor and brother, sisters with their families on the top two?

After exploring for hours inside I return to the front yard to gaze in wonder at this truly beautiful reminder of the past. I get this feeling from deep inside it doesn't want me to leave. It appears almost sad and seems to have drooped even more. Listing a little to the right begging me to enter once more. But I must leave and go about my life as it exists. I drive slowly away almost never taking my eyes off the house behind me............

This is a recurring dream I have had since I was a small child. It's the only dream in my life that I can remember and put down on paper or computer as it were. This dream awakens me about once a month. Sometimes it changes as to the people who are with me exploring the home and surroundings and sometimes I am all alone. The house never changes from dream to dream, the furniture always the same and the same feeling inside each time. Sometimes though I can see the weather, a hurricane coming and feel the excitement, a tornado and the high winds and see it coming for miles and miles.

I still wonder why I keep having the recurring dream, and wonder so many times what it means.

For the most part I am always happy in this dream, sometimes a little sad at leaving it. I always wake with a feeling of calm serenity however. So I often welcome this dream into my nighttime.


Mental P Mama said...

I sometimes dream about old houses...I am going to look into it. Very interesting. I felt comforted just reading this.

Gail said...

Beautiful story!
Could it be a house from your childhood? I remember two houses from when I was just a baby. Mother said you can't remember that, you weren't even walking...well, I do.

Snooty Primadona said...

I have several recurring & have had since I was young. Maybe someday I'll write about them, but they are really weird. Your's sounds so nice!

Asphalt Widow said...

I've often heard that dreaming of a house is a sense of security.. hmm..