Fingerprints on the Ceiling

One of my favorite night time shot taken last year. Some of my other 

favorites usually have a lot of snow in them and Christmas decorations.

I've now lived away from the place I grew up longer than when I lived there, but there is something about where you spent your growing up years that resides deep within. The place was sold recently. The long anticipated time has come for the parents to pack up, downsize and begin the next chapter in their lives. As I roam around this space that was the Clark household for forty-four years I am reminded of many memories. 

A very wide-angle shot of the living room and foyer. I've 

always loved our unique sunk-in living room and fire place.

One of my favorite fireplace shots is when we first moved in...

Three of the four of us are sitting inside the brand-new 

fireplace, never been used yet...of course we were 5yrs, 3yrs and 6 

months at the time...definitely not a shot we could recreate now.

The intercom system in my Dads basement workshop. I have

to credit my sister for remembering this gem from the past. 

I decided the best way to capture some of the tangible memories is to photograph the tale-tale signs of yesteryear. But in the time I've been away I've suddenly realized many changes have been made. Take for example the guest room that I often stayed in when visiting. It looks like a typical guest room/office with a full sized bed, floral print on the walls, white trim, a bureau that was my grandmothers and a desk. This day I searched for evidence that this was once the room that I shared with my sister during those adolescent years...in my minds eye I see pink walls, a bunkbed, dolls on the shelf, stuffed animals and books. I was hard pressed to find anything until I looked up and there it was...my fingerprints on the ceiling. They are faint but they are there in the area that our bunk bed once stood. Much of the house interior has been updated over the years such as brown paneling painted white, but as we pack boxes--the pictures, the old report cards and things long ago forgotten and hidden in crevasses have been revealed. If you know where to look you will find evidence that the Clark kids were raised here such as the place on the dining room doorframe that has the residue of tape, marking our growth or the basketball backboard that has seen better days especially after a woodpecker had his way with it. 

A lot of the plants around the yard were transplants from my

grandparents. My favorites were always the Peonies. I was 

always fascinated how the ants opened the blossoms. 

The white ones came from my Dad parents and the deep

pink ones from my Mom parents. But there were also 

transplanted lilacs and wild roses. My Mom's favorite 

however was the Laurel bush that my parents planted together.

As I was staying here one last time I tried to also take-in the uncapturable images. The sound of the chickadees calling to one another. The occasional car driving up the road and then woodland peacefulness of birds and crickets. The neighbors dog panting just outside the window (this reminded me of the many dogs we had over the years). The smell of my dad's workshop basement and the wood stove. So many things that I am sure will come back when I come across them somewhere else.

Soon these rooms will be completely empty ready for the next family to begin to make their own memories. But in the waning days I captured my last reminders of what it was like at #64.

The garage door view. I took a lot of window and corner shots. This one captures the remains of our basketball backboard attached to a telephone pole.

Having lived outside of New England for awhile now, the first thing that always captures my attention are the trees. As a kid the woods were our playground. There were certain landmarks made up of unique trees and the many rocks and boulders throughout the woods that had names and were frequented by many of the neighborhood kids. I learned to ride my bike on these hills, often times with my younger brother on the banana seat in front of me.

So many more photos were taken on this trip and many we have from the past. My Dad built this place in 1970 and  even though I last lived here in 1990 it was always comforting to come back "home". If you have read this far, thank you for letting me divulge just a few of the memories this place holds dear to me and my family. I was thankful for one last goodbye and I wish nothing but peace and happiness to the next family.