It’s just me and the ghosts tonight. My own and others.
The cooler weather. A blood-red half-moon rising. Lingering doubts. Loneliness.
Gawd I hate to sleep alone.
Exhausted from toiling on works of man that transcend the modern age. Looking cautiously out at the failing businesses and indeed, entire towns decaying around me and wondering if there’s even a point. Wondering if I have it in me to finish.
Fixing 100-year old problems and new issues as well. A board badly placed causing a problem years later. Pulling nails somebody hammered in at the end of the American civil war. Replacing a beam that broke 100 years ago…and another that rotted in the last 10 years.
Does it matter? Will anybody benefit? Will anyone even *know*?
Adding my sweat, my blood, my design…personality…and my energy to the collection.
Man’s works…significant ones anyway, take on some of the energy…the personality…the life…of the events and emotion invested in the creation and usage of them.
I own the buildings…but I’m just a custodian of the energy…of the history.
A 110 year old house, a 150 year old commercial building, in a 180 year old town…formed on the oldest settlement in the state. History and emotion seeps out of every stone here.
Will the buildings still be here in 10 years? 20? 50? What would happen to them…if something happened to me?
A nexus for emotion…the life expended in effort. The toil. The love. Great things don’t happen without passion and passion leaves an impression.
But am I doing great things?
Yah…tonight…it’s just me and the ghosts.
…well, and the cats. Not sure if it’s comforting or not. They can see the ghosts better than I can.
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