French Doors

We drive along the stretch of road not often taken when I am there. I see it ahead as we approach, commenting to my daddy how it intrigued me, how I would like to photograph it. “That’s Ms. Lusk’s old place. Her son still owns it. I’ll call him. He won’t care if you do.”

The benefit to a small community where your parents grew up and know almost everyone.

Black and white suited these as well as color, but I cannot help to share the color ones today. The early morning hour barely above freezing gifting blue sky so amazing.

LuskHome_Dec222012_0030
LuskHome_Dec222012_0024
LuskHome_Dec222012_0025LuskHome_Dec222012_0020
LuskHome_Dec222012_0017LuskHome_Dec222012_0014
LuskHome_Dec222012_0016
LuskHome_Dec222012_0012
LuskHome_Dec222012_0009
LuskHome_Dec222012_0008LuskHome_Dec222012_0003
LuskHome_Dec222012_0005
LuskHome_Dec222012_0001

I will be offline for a few weeks during my church’s 21 Days of Prayer & Fasting. Exciting, yet nervous, news plus a giveaway coming late ¬†January or early February! Until then!

Jenna - January 7, 2013 - 9:08 am

I love this… so breath-taking!

floyd - January 4, 2013 - 5:35 pm

The pictures evoke a story within… Love the architecture and that fireplace…

Cassandra Frear - January 4, 2013 - 11:38 am

So, if Ms. Lusk owned it and lived there, why is her son ignoring the property and letting it deteriorate like that? Why didn’t he sell it if he wasn’t going to use it for anything? Lots of questions . . .