Another North Dakota picture.
I got drowsy while headed west and rode into an abandoned farmstead for a little shelter from the high winds. I lay down in that tall green grass and took a nap. When I woke up, I took a look at the abandoned farm house. It looked like it hadn't been lived in for 15 or 20 years. I could tell it had been beautifully constructed and was still solid. I walked inside. There was a combination electric/wood cooking stove in the kitchen. The oven was wood fired and the range top had electric coils. The hardwood floors were deteriorating, but you could tell they were beautiful when new. The ceilings and walls were of plaster-and-lathe construction.
It was eery to consider what happened to the people. Why was this beautiful house abandoned? What were the hopes and aspirations of the people who lived here? What stories were lost? This house was built to last a century or two. Why didn't someone else move in if the original people left?
I forgot to look in the cellar. It was too spooky anyway, with the wind sighing in the windows only accentuating the deep silence of the place.
Eventually my curiosity of what was over the next hill overcame my interest in the abandoned house and I was off down the road again on the little thumper.