Tired or Tenacious?

A house develops a personality of its own only after left vacant. Until then the house is a reflection of its owner. But once the owner leaves, the house reveals itself as a batter-scarred warrior, a larger-than-life entertainer, a tired recluse, etc.

Of late, vacant houses stand empty in staggering numbers - so much so that they have become nearly invisible. But every so often one of these abandoned structures catches my eye. Such was the case today when my attention turned to the bungalow with the sagging screen door.

The wooden screen door hung loose, tilting away from the house, precariously attached by a single top hinge. To some, that door drooping door might have indicated a tired shelter teetering on collapse.  But I saw a still-proud structure gripping the screen door with determined tenacity. 

I saw a house that shouted I will not the fail the next to call me home. I saw a house that promised warm comfort in cold seasons and shadowed protection in the summer. I saw a house with a roof line still running knife-edge straight. I saw a house with porch columns that still stood as proud sentinels. In return for a few screws in the hinges of that screen door, the house would swear fealty to those who chose to live within.