Alley Park

While out running around Saturday, I meandered into Alley Park near Lancaster, Ohio. Part of Lancaster’s city park system, it’s home to picnic areas, seven miles of trails, a terrific log cabin, nature center, a catch and release lake and this covered bridge.

It’s called the George Hutchins Covered Bridge. Built somewhere else in 1865, it was brought here for the Fairfield County Bicentennial Celebration in 2000.

At just 49 feet, it’s not an enormous bridge but it’s in great shape and the perfect venue for small events. In fact, it was decorated Saturday for a late day wedding.

I wandered around here for a bit before heading down the road to bargain shop at Peddlar’s Junction. Just before this, I had visited a local sunflower field. Read about that experience here!

Also, in case you need a pep talk – this flower was growing all alone in a pavement crack. If a little flower can muster this kind of resilience and will to live, we can too!

Alley Park

While out running around Saturday, I meandered into Alley Park near Lancaster, Ohio. Part of Lancaster’s city park system, it’s home to picnic areas, seven miles of trails, a terrific log cabin, nature center, a catch and release lake and this covered bridge.

It’s called the George Hutchins Covered Bridge. Built somewhere else in 1865, it was brought here for the Fairfield County Bicentennial Celebration in 2000.

At just 49 feet, it’s not an enormous bridge but it’s in great shape and the perfect venue for small events. In fact, it was decorated Saturday for a late day wedding.

I wandered around here for a bit before heading down the road to bargain shop at Peddlar’s Junction. Just before this, I had visited a local sunflower field. Read about that experience here!

Also, in case you need a pep talk – this flower was growing all alone in a pavement crack. If a little flower can muster this kind of resilience and will to live, we can too!

Abandoned

Houses like this one always make me sad. You can tell she was once a beauty and if this old girl could talk, I’m sure she would express shame for her current condition.

Her barn is gone and the remaining shed in the field is collapsing onto itself. Someone still farms here but the house is no longer a home.

Small children once pressed their noses against the upstairs windows, eager to go play in the snow. They slammed the kitchen door on the way out to chase lightening bugs in the summer. That gorgeous front door was once open to neighbors on Sunday afternoon. Gallons of iced tea were consumed on the front porch while the price of hay and the chance of rain were debated.

She unfailingly provided shelter and warmth to generations who needed her but now sits vacant and ignored. Her windows are all broken and she has suffered the indignity of a spray painted message on her face.

What wisdom might she impart if she could speak? What comfort could she provide if fixed up and offered the opportunity?

I’m sure we’ll never know as she is suffering a slow but inevitable demise.