I went for a walk yesterday in Old Town Lafayette. The sidewalks were just beginning to show the offerings of fall, with occasional concrete peppered with green yellow leaves. Roscoe was pulling at his leash and I was on the lookout for something interesting to photograph. For some reason my attention kept being drawn to a worn out building. There was nothing really photo worthy about it so I kept walking and circling around the tree lined alleyways. (for the record, I really like alleys) But I couldn't get this building out of my mind. It had a sort of sad feel to it. The windows were boarded up, the doors were chained with big rusty loops and there was a tree growing out of the middle of the roof.
So it just sat there sagging while time had its way. I couldn't help wondering what kind of dreams it once held. What kind of story it could tell if it had a voice. The street it sat on was wide and quiet. What once used to be a main thoroughfare now sees only the occasional neighborhood traffic. The city grew and changed, moving its hustle and bustle to a newer location.
I stood there and could almost imagine the voices and laughter that the hope of new ideas and dreams bring. Maybe the promise of a new future. But the people left. And the building still stands there as a sort of memorial to the history that passed through that place. I wondered if they had found what they were looking for, or if they had left disappointed. I wondered if the things that I am excited about in my life will build any sort of last memorial, or will be left, like this building, as only an empty, forgotten reminder when I have moved on.