How do I get to the house with the giant clock…

Over half way thru this week Travellers,

Last night, as Faline and I were relaxing in the moonlight on the warm patio, there was a steady stream of butterflies bobbing about in the night sky. They must be migrating or something because I’ve never seen so many. It was a pretty full sky with them and the lightening bugs and whatever else is flitting about this time of year…almost like some kind of airborne tarmac…

Earlier in the day, I drove myself to therapy, which is about 25 minutes from where I live, it’s a hop, skip and a jump on the highway. And if I’m paying attention on this drive I get to catch a glimpse of this house. It’s this mesmerizing old house that sits off to the right of the highway. It’s appears about half way through the trip.

If you aren’t being mindful, it’s easily missed, especially during summer with the trees fully decked out in their leaves. And it’s more than just off to the side. It’s off to the side, as in, over a field and behind some trees, on a different road that is parallel to the highway. The reason it remains so eye catching is the immense oddity of the house and it’s equally giant clock that’s mounted on it’s peaked facade.

Maybe it’s something bigger than a house, smaller than a mansion? It looks to be civil war era in build. Like it was part of a plantation or something. And it’s the only one of it’s kind, so it really stands out. It’s like either is was mysterious planted there or everything else around it that was of its era was destroyed somewhere along the way in time. Even through the trees, just a glimpse of it is hypnotic and mysterious. At least to me. It’s white with large columns and an equally large front porch and above that in the center is the rather massive clock, all of which can be seen in the other seasons. But it’s the clock that catches your eye as you drive by…

Years ago, I knew an antique dealer who knew the owner. Apparently, he was into imports and exports of antiques. She had said she could arrange for me to go and visit, but I declined. Looking back, I have no idea why I said no. I imagined the owner to be some version of a haughty Indiana Jones type. Because the property appears to be large enough to contain a vault of unknown treasures.

In fact, what it really reminds me of is the house in the story, “The Witching Hour” which is an Anne Rice novel. I love the story and it’s her best in my opinion, which is saying a lot considering Lestat. But this house looks like it could be the setting of that story. Lasher would live here, haunting the Mayfair witches. I suppose if you haven’t read that book, my comparison might not mean as much.

Of one thing I am certain, this house has had a life.

When I was driving home from my appointment, I was thinking about how do you reach that house? I have no idea what road you take to get there. There are no junctions on the highway that I’ve seen to take me that way. And the road it’s on only runs parallel for abit before disappearing. I have watched for this house for years, wondered for years and yet never made any kind of inroads to get there. It’s just been this passing enigma.

And I started thinking about that, how I’ve always wondered about the house and yet never bothered to seek it out, which feels a lot like how I’ve treated certain parts of my life. I’ve reminded an enigma of sorts to my own self because I refused to follow my curiosity. I refused to get on any path who’s journey was uncertain. If I couldn’t plan it, or control it or verify my soul’s safety, or mostly guarantee my success, I wasn’t going. In the end that meant, I wasn’t going anywhere of value really. I wasn’t growing and I wasn’t happy. That’s a hard realization to swallow…

So, I am on this journey currently and my old life is slipping further from view each day. It sounds weird to say, but I can feel myself changing inside. I have fully embraced this forward momentum having no real idea of where it will lead or end which is completely unlike me. I remember saying to my therapist and my ex before he left, that I felt like I could see the path right there that I need to get on, but I couldn’t just yet. I couldn’t move yet. But somewhere in the past month, I did get on it and started moving both forward and away from who I was with him, which has a feeling of exhilaration that I had long forgotten.

I think I need to find my way to that house and stand in front it. I’m going to figure out what roads take me there, even if I’ve never travelled on them before. I’ll take a photo as proof of my journey. I may get lost looking for the way but don’t we all get lost on our little adventures? That whole thing they say about getting lost in order to be found, or maybe we’re never really lost at all, I don’t know. BUT it’s the trying to find the way that I’m beginning to believe is maybe worth more than arriving at the destination. It’s something about trying the roads you have not yet taken in life. Like I said a few posts back, it’s the DO-ing…There is something very rewarding in navigating thru an unknown journey, isn’t there?

I’m going to go looking for my way there this weekend and you just wait here, I’ll be back, photo in hand…



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