Abandoned Farmhouse

This afternoon Sharon and I were driving down some of the back roads and enjoying the sunny weather. We've both got a bad case of spring fever and just wanted to spend some time outside. I had taken my cameras and new wide angle lens with me, hoping for the chance to take some photos.

As we drove, I realized that we were close to an abandoned farmhouse that I'd seen a few times over the years. I decided to head in that direction and as we reached it I pulled the Jeep to the side of the road and switched on the four ways.

The old farmhouse loomed ominously on the small hillside. Five leafless trees stood in front of it but in the barren days of winter they did nothing to conceal the houses' presence. At one point in time, someone had wrapped the front porch in plastic. Over the years, the steady whipping of the wind saw the plastic become tattered, almost shredded and the result was a facade that looked almost like giant sharp teeth. The entire house leaned slightly to one side, sinking askew into the soft ground.

The rear of the house wasn't as ominous - or impressive. Layers of siding peeled away in places, almost like rings in a tree stump revealing it's age. Behind the house, a pool of water, filled with muck and mud, hollowed out the ground. The brick chimney could be seen easier from here, crumbling from years of exposure to the weather. The back door was gone, in its place a sheet of plywood in surprisingly good condition. The water made approaching the rear of the building impossible.

I circled around to the front of the house. I didn't bring my flashes with me so I knew going inside would be pointless. I started back to the Jeep, but noticed the very loud sound of running water, seeming to come from inside the house. I somewhat tentatively approached the red basement door and pushed it slightly with my boot. A scared rabbit bounced away, startling me a bit. I pushed the door a bit further with no result. Satisfied that I wasn't two seconds away from becoming the victim of a hockey mask wearing, machete wielding madman (or more realistically a wild animal), I kicked the door open the rest of the way.

Peering into the darkness, it looked like a normal enough basement from what I could see. I didn't step inside, but far in the distance I could see daylight shining through the rear wall of the foundation. Water was gushing inside, the water from the pond in the back. The water was filling the basement floor, at least an inch or two deep. Hopefully I'll make it back in the coming weeks and I'll remember to bring a flashlight and a flash for the camera so I can explore and photograph the interiors of this dwelling that time forgot.