The echoes we leave behind..
In every property I photograph, you can see the trace of the people who once lived there. This may be from a pair of reading glasses beside some well-worn books. Or, an old Singer sewing machine with some thread and old sewing patterns. This allows you to get an idea of who lived here and a glimpse into their lives.
This next house I've visited many times over the past decade. Fortunately, it's holding up quite well. Every time I visit, I discover more about the lady who lived here. It's almost as if she left clues for me to find.
Everything is in place in the kitchen, even the dishcloth hangs over the white porcelain sink to dry. This shows me it was busy room in the house.
A variety of pots, pans, jars, and utensils are piled up on every bench, covered thick with dust and the odd spiderweb.
A generous layer of rust covers the bread bin lid.
The sacred heart sits above the Aga. Almost every room I go into has a religious figure or picture. Faith is emphasised in this home.
The cupboard is still stocked with pantry items and plates, cups, and saucers. Notice the tea towel hanging from the door. I wonder when it was last used?
The net curtains cling to each other, trying to hide what's inside.
During a previous visit, I noticed handwritten notes about medical lectures. At this visit, notebooks containing handwritten diary entries of day-to-day life were visible and left lying open.
Additionally, there are many bookshelves filled with all kinds of books, including poetry.
On each occasion, I never feel alone here. It's not an unwelcoming feeling but, it is one that you have company.
Another religious reminder in the upstairs hall window.
