Of course I understand that nothing physical lasts forever, but when a piece of the Valley’s history disappears, I get a pang of disappointment. It is especially saddening because usually it happens with nary a glance from the majority of the population.
When Margie and I wander the countryside, I often stop and snap shots of buildings that seem to not be long for the world. Many times I am too late. As tempted as I am to knock on doors and ask questions about what was, there have been a couple of times that the local did not appreciate my presence. Perhaps the short haircut makes me stand out?
On the side of one of these roads we found a neatly stacked pile of old lumber. On close inspection, this mortar and tenon post could be 150 years old (wild guess). Now junk, and likely later burned, but at the end of the day – so what?