I’m the same as you, but not the same. On this spot by greater forces. We co-exist, united.
Like reflections. Depending of light created eight minutes ago. In ancient H2O.
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Author Archives
ullehaddock
Writer of sorts with a soft spot for Photo. Writes about life and what comes into my mind.
Apple
Stone Beach reflections
Frozen
The house
This was the latest he said. Everything was prepared and just shipped to the site on a truck, even the doors and windows. The salesman put up a dental commercial smile. They were actually a bit surprised when he didn’t pull up that toothpaste tube. Instead he pushed the contract forward on the table for them to sign. To make sure they didn’t read to close he offered more coffee. Again with that perfect smile he spent a full week perfecting at the sales training.
The couple looked at each other as to seek confirmation. He had been promoted to manager and with that he earned more money. Now was the time for that dream house on the west coast. Everything was prepared. A piece of land and a permit to build was granted from the county. The only problem was that the road was not able to carry a loaded lorry. They solved that by delivering the parts to the small village across the fjord. Then they simply loaded into rowboats and rowed across to the small beach. It was put there in a perfect order just waiting to be assembled.
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But it was never built. Nobody came to put it together. Days turned into weeks. Then into months and into years. A storm took the tarpaulin to the sea. Now nature had free access. Rain, snow and wind. Somebody did move in, but not humans. The tidy pile of building material became home to insects. Insects that started feast of the trusses and the window frames. Finally ants found a perfect spot for their empire. A tree grew next to the pile, higher and higher until a storm tilted it over the pile. Sounds of shattered glas was drowned by the howling wind.
Slowly nature wins and soon only the roofing tiles and the shattered glas remains. Remains of somebody’s dream. Why was it not built? What happened with the couple in front of the smiling salesman? There is a true story and I’m sure my father-law knows it. I would like you to use your imagination and fill in the missing piece in the story. Please share your thoughts and ideas in the comment section.
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Water rings
Drops
Carpet of Frosty Leafs
Frost
Foundation
He held his arm around his shoulder. It was strong and heavy over his small shoulders. It was an unusual closeness he showed him. As he stood there he realized that it was the closest to a hug he could remember. A cool breeze came from the southwest on this late summers day. The smell of sweat as they stood there looking. He looked up at his fathers face. He was pleased, proud even. How many times had he not felt the pain from his open hand hitting him in the neck. Accused of showing pride. A mortal sin for his strictly religious father.
You know son, his father said while pulling him even closer. This will stand a hundred years from now. Long after both you and me are gone. Our great grand children will live here. This foundation is as solid as the Lord. As if that statement got him to realize what sin he was committing, he let go of his embrace by pushing his son hard forward. The boy could barely keep the balance when he landed two meters away. Now let us start with the floor frame, he said in a harsh voice.
Little did he know that day that the foundation would stand almost completely intact hundred fifty years later. Even if it was unprotected by a house for over a hundred years.
Weakened by the fever he tried to pray. Pray for forgiveness for his and his fathers pride that day. That blessed and cursed day when the foundation was completed and again when the house was done. Together with his father they built a house stronger and higher than the neighbors. Now God was punishing them by taking his entire family in this flu. This terrible flu they said came from Spain.
Trough foggy eyes he saw them take away his wife and two daughters to be buried on that island. He hoped that the priest had consecrated the ground so they could go to heaven. He was convinced to go the other direction even if he tried to convince the Lord to accept him in his prayers. After all he had worked hard from dusk to dawn. He had never missed a Church day and spent the evenings in prayer together with his family.
A few days later the two poor peasants tossed him over the other bodies in the boat. They rowed with tired strokes the short distance to the island. He was dropped with the others in the large grave. While some other poor boys covered the bodies with the sandy soil they drank their Scandinavian vodka and smoked their pipes. Where is the priest, one of them asked with a faint smile. The other frowned and looked at him with misstrust. He has bolted himself inside the chapel. Some say has gone mad. They can hear him scream inside. You’ll see, soon we will toss him in the same pit as these.
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This story is inspired by the foundation you see in the pictures. We don’t really know what happened to the family but the house construction made of wood was dimanteled and moved fifty kilometer inland for almost hundred years ago. The Churches in this area had a very strict interpretation of the bible in this period around 1900. This trend in the Church was called Schartauanism after the priest Henric Schartau.
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UlleHaddock 