A forgotten orchard surrounds the house. Trees heavy-laden with red, juicy apples that no one will taste…
The house sits stately…a once-resplendent Queen Anne Victorian, long-neglected, long-uninhabited…or is it?
Windows and walls, doors and passageways…all witnesses to those that have lived, loved—and died—here…
…they are all gone now…but perhaps, just perhaps, some remain…
What goes on in a house when no one else is around to see? Who goes through the halls where once he skipped and played?
Who peers longingly through the high dormer window, wishing for a just a glimpse of the sea, or for one of those juicy, sweet apples…oh-so-close…that she cannot have?
Perhaps it was no one…perhaps, just perhaps, I only imagined it…
The story of the Redman House is a long and interesting one…someday I will tell you more…
…truth is often stranger than fiction, they say…and in this case, it is certainly true…
Sounds are heard…weeping in the night…doors opening and slamming on their own….mysteries unsolved remain…
A little “haunted” project made this week with this well-known local landmark in mind…
…a light-hearted vintage look at a similar house from a similar time…
…where window and walls still remember those that have lived, loved—and died—long before…
…and red, juicy apples still hang from those long-forgotten trees…just longing to be tasted…
Julie
{My own photographs of the house and grounds are watermarked; others were found online}
