The eyes are windows to the soul. Windows of old houses are the eyes to their soul. After I took the picture, I turned to see what the view must have been decades ago when looking out the windows. I thought of young children awakening to the open fields of grain, morning sunrises, deer, early morning fogs. I thought of the father admiring his days work amid the rolling hills that stretch out just beyond the windows. The young mother bursting with pride as she looked out the window and surveyed her newly planted garden.

The years have taken it's toll, cataracts have formed but the soul still remembers the families it sheltered... the gatherings it's door so warmly welcomed...the children it raised. The old house left this world a better place...I hope someday I can say the same thing.