Stairway to nowhere. What's the story? Each time I leave work, I pass this lonely sight/site and I wonder who lived here? Who loved this place? Why did they leave? What happened to their home? Who owns this piece of land now and what do they plan to do with it? It sits on the edge of a neighborhood that is rapidly changing; from modest, single family homes to rentals, and from small businesses to warehouses and seedy motels. I doubt it will ever be the site of a home again, and somehow, that makes me sad.
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It is not life and wealth and power that enslave men, but the cleaving to life and wealth and power.
Buddha (c. 563-483 BCE)
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I find it difficult to feel responsible for the suffering of others. That's why I find war so hard to bear. It's the same with animals: I feel the less harm I do, the lighter my heart. I love a light heart. And when I know I'm causing suffering, I feel the heaviness of it. It's a physical pain. So it's self-interest that I don't want to cause harm.
Alice Walker, author (b. 1944)
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He who postpones the hour of living is like the rustic who waits for the river to run out before he crosses.
Horace, poet and satirist (65-8 BCE)
13 comments:
That is indeed a sad photo. That path has a story to tell, doesn't it.
Like the quotes.
Judy,
About 6 months after Hurricane Katrina ravaged New Orleans and the Mississippi Gulf Coast, I saw this very scene showing the steps to nowhere.
Those steps I saw belonged to the people who had beautiful homes right on the Gulf. Or, USED to have homes. They were all completely destroyed and there was nothing left but the steps.
One of those homes belonged to Senator Trent Lott (R-Mississippi).
I saw him interviewed on TV and he was heartbroken,not about the house as much as the family heirlooms that were destroyed and can never be replaced.
I felt very sorry for him...
Horace knew his stuff.
If you had more time on your hands you could maybe ask around and see if anyone knows the answer.
I can never understand when people have no curiosity at all - one can learn such a lot.
The property with only steps would drive me crazy. I would have to try to research it and learn the story. But meantime, I think I would mentally write several scenarios in my own mind.
The steps would have me puzzled too. You might ask around and see if anyone knows anything.
The swine flu jokes are getting boaring.
On another site this week I saw a picture of stairs down to the ocean... not the beach, the ocean and a railing and sign that said they were closed. The fellow writing the post said he often went there to sit on the stairs and contemplate.. why they were there, what the purpose was, when was the sign put up, what is down in the deep water at the bottom of the stairs...
You know.. you could really lose your mind with this stuff...;)
Back around Christmas they took down an old bridge here. It was used heavily and this has caused some consternation with travelers over the old bridge. One day I noticed a large barge moored next to the drawbridge on the way to our house. There sat the metal framework of that bridge, on the flat barge deck floating in the water... and I thought.. now this is the REAL bridge to nowhere. I intended to try and stop to get a picture, but the drawbridge keepers frown upon that...so I never did and then one day... it was gone.. probably hauled off for scrap. I miss that pile of metal.
I know that has nothing to do with this post.. or does it... I don't know now.. it is 1 AM and I have been up since yesterday at 6 AM. I am going to bed... sorry for the ramble.
I love steps. Wherever they go, or whether they go nowhere.
I imagine all sorts of things in my head about them.
Somehow, the ones that go nowhere speak to me about my life.
Sad, isn't it??
How cool that photo is! It's my third encounter with a stairway to nowhere, but the other two weren't set nearly as nicely. First one was in a house that had been split into college apartments. This left the downstairs apartment having a set of indoor stairs that led to a wall and nothing more. The second was the favorite weed-smokin' spot for folks who frequented a bar I used to hang at. Those actually led to a roof, but really there wasn't anything on the roof, so we called them the Stairway to Nowhere and the hair metal bar across the street became the Hairway to Nowhere. Okay, we were a tad mean in those days.
I walked up steps like that a few weeks ago they were on the site of an old castle, Alas they were the only marker left on the site.
Judy you have given me inspiration for a blog post sometime in the future! :D
I always wonder about abandoned places like your steps to nowhere.
Those lonely fireplace foundations in odd places seem especially poignant to me.
That's the kind of picture I pull over to take. It speaks volumes but even so, we don't know the story.
It always piques my curiosity to see a spot like that or an old house that is falling apart. You wonder who lived there and can make up all sorts of scenarios in your mind.
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