As I deal with a painful bout of writer's block, I thought I'd share this little moment I had this weekend while running an errand.
I've been driving this one roadway for ages, it feels like. I'll drive the length of it to get to my parents' house or just part of it to run errands around town.
I like the roadway because the speed is fairly consistent and there's neat things to look at, like diners I think I should someday stop at or old gas stations I have many questions about.
The Lord must love it when I take this road because I never seem to hit a red light.
But today, I did.
I stopped at the light on this road and had a moment to really absorb a house on a corner lot I've always tried to catch a glimpse of while driving past.
Rumor was the worn-in house, with its faded, peeling siding, tightly latched chain link fence, sagging roof and porch full of old furniture, knick-knacks and faded flags, had belonged to an old Klansmen.
But a while ago, I can't pinpoint how long, the house became quieter. The couch on the porch has been turned away from the street. Birdhouses and wind chimes are missing. A "keep out" sign is tacked to the front door. The chain link fence that once displayed bright, crisp Confederate flags and a handwritten for sale sign are gone.
And the roof. The roof has swallowed the sky, practically. It looks like a black hole is consuming the house from the inside out. The green roof sags in such a way it is like the house is neatly folding itself like a bed sheet.
A large tree is undisturbed, and the shred of a former orange flag remains on a small pole at the tippy top. A turkey vulture rustles his feathers near it, gently swaying the whole tree and the single orange shred.
The picture is interesting, to say the least, considering some of the response to a sign posted in Dahlonega late last week.
The vulture settles and the orange shred disappears back in to the leaves of the tree. The light turns green and I drive past the house swallowed by itself.
And I remember - no matter what you do, or how you do it, or whether you like it - time changes everything.
