The house is abandoned, but when I came here it told me a story of generations living and loving. Most days were hard work, but there was also room for joy and happiness; a grandmother weaving stories of far away life to her little grandson, a mother giving birth, a young man bringing his new wife to the beautiful red house close to the sea, a mother awake during the night waiting for her husband to come home from fishing, a father teaching his son to harvest. Summer, winter, prime, old age.
The house will not stand much longer. One day a winterstorm will be too strong. And memories of life and love will fade.
But the house was there when I came, and it offered me bits and pieces of its lived life, of its lived love. The house willfall apart, but memories will live. In the wind blowing, in the waves dancing, in hearts beating, in hands writing, in people aound the world reading.
I found this homestead during one of my walks at Tautra. A beautiful memorial of life.
