Creeping...
The house was lovely. Its gabled roof with the shingles insets. The lovely bay windows under the gable. Turrets, corniced eaves, gingerbread and the Corinthian columned porch all worked together in a classic Victorian home.
This house was very loved. It smiled as it looked down on the town from its hill. It stood in a place of honor, of beauty, of prestige. Manicured lawns and trimmed hedges, sculpted bushes and trees all enhanced its beauty. No one ever noticed that one little plant hidden at the back.
It sent out little shoots, creepers which helped it climb. It found the wall of the lovely house and began its slow climb. Ivy spread. Creeping up the side slowly gracefully covering a small section. Up it went finding its way into each small nook and cranny, slowly grabbing and holding on. Gaining a secure hold with which to propel the next generation of leaves.
Over time it covered the back wall which no one saw. It began its ascent on the sides. Little did anyone realize that this lovely greenery was smothering the lovely house. The gingerbread broke off, the eaves were covered and gables lost their charm.
One day the house stopped smiling. Its beauty was faded. Its charm was lost. It was covered by the upstart, the overcomer. It grew old and decrepit. It lost its youth and its life. The house gave up and died.
She came back to visit after many years. Her grandma had lived in this town. She had played in the park and looked up at the hill. At the house. Her favorite house. She looked forward to seeing her house after all these years. She was coming home. She drove in and looked up at the hill. She saw nothing up overgrown trees and vines. She asked about the house.
"That old thing? It is long gone buried under ivy and weeds."
She cried.
She walked up the hill and found the house. It was broken and battered. She cried.
She climbed the steps of the once grand porch. The lovely columns now faded and chipped. She looked and walked. She touched and knocked. She pounded and thought. She found it was sound. Inside it was still strong. Inside it was still there. Inside it still lived.
She smiled and said goodbye.
The house cried.
She came back and brought life to the house. She tore down the old and broken. She destroyed the ivy and weeds. She cleared out the detritus. She built and fixed the house.
The house smiled. She smiled.
Now they all smile as once again there is a lovely house with smiling eyes and lovely rafters. They both look down from the lovely hill over the town. Life renewed.
This house was very loved. It smiled as it looked down on the town from its hill. It stood in a place of honor, of beauty, of prestige. Manicured lawns and trimmed hedges, sculpted bushes and trees all enhanced its beauty. No one ever noticed that one little plant hidden at the back.
It sent out little shoots, creepers which helped it climb. It found the wall of the lovely house and began its slow climb. Ivy spread. Creeping up the side slowly gracefully covering a small section. Up it went finding its way into each small nook and cranny, slowly grabbing and holding on. Gaining a secure hold with which to propel the next generation of leaves.
Over time it covered the back wall which no one saw. It began its ascent on the sides. Little did anyone realize that this lovely greenery was smothering the lovely house. The gingerbread broke off, the eaves were covered and gables lost their charm.
One day the house stopped smiling. Its beauty was faded. Its charm was lost. It was covered by the upstart, the overcomer. It grew old and decrepit. It lost its youth and its life. The house gave up and died.
She came back to visit after many years. Her grandma had lived in this town. She had played in the park and looked up at the hill. At the house. Her favorite house. She looked forward to seeing her house after all these years. She was coming home. She drove in and looked up at the hill. She saw nothing up overgrown trees and vines. She asked about the house.
"That old thing? It is long gone buried under ivy and weeds."
She cried.
She walked up the hill and found the house. It was broken and battered. She cried.
She climbed the steps of the once grand porch. The lovely columns now faded and chipped. She looked and walked. She touched and knocked. She pounded and thought. She found it was sound. Inside it was still strong. Inside it was still there. Inside it still lived.
She smiled and said goodbye.
The house cried.
She came back and brought life to the house. She tore down the old and broken. She destroyed the ivy and weeds. She cleared out the detritus. She built and fixed the house.
The house smiled. She smiled.
Now they all smile as once again there is a lovely house with smiling eyes and lovely rafters. They both look down from the lovely hill over the town. Life renewed.
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