A Bit of a Gothic Mystery.

I have been in my new home all of 24 days, and have already discovered a mystery that needs uncovering! My little room resides inside of a large, expensive home in a subdivision populated by much the same. Nestled into the valley about four miles from the place I work, there are no streetlights here, and no sidewalks. While this neighborhood is still a city address, the city limits technically stop at a white barn just over two miles away.

The area surrounding my neighborhood is desolate-looking. Not empty, just depopulated. The structures that crop up occasionally from the landscape are always far back from the road, and most often seasonally occupied, or only used once a week, in the case of the places of worship that neighbor each other across the highway.

The landscape is beautiful, with huge mountains and pine trees dotting the higher points of the slopes. Sweeping fields stretch away from the highway that divides them and break into strips of raw stone as they arch into the massive rock and turf that makes up the Wasatch range. There are regular reminders that humans have made this place their home long before the ski resorts took over.

Abandoned farm buildings, toppling phone poles held at odd angles by the wires they originally supported; there is an amazing array of beauty here. Still, the popularity of the area keeps away animals. The only varieties I have seen so far are magpies, shockingly large, and one dead coyote, also of a large size.

It is easy for the lack of movement in the sparse brush and over the low naked grasses to alarm you. I love hiking the area, but it is always somewhat alarming. Thus a house owning a massive estate of land in fairly good repair begins to wear on your senses. When you pass it, you begin to impress an effect on yourself something like wonder and curiosity, and fear.

As I was saying, I have discovered this house. It is huge, probably three or four storeys, if the uppermost dormers have attic space. The paint is chipping from it, but not in rude quantities. Windows of several shapes peer out glassy and dark. In the sunlight, blinds can be seen, half drawn at angles as if they have been hastily pulled then abandoned mid-action. The porch shades unknown furniture and a double door. It is a dark house, even on the brightest day.

The house itself is not what appears most abandoned. Surrounding the structure is a massive estate of fenced in enclosures and what appears to be a ticket house. There is a huge maze of wood trellises on its opposite side from this smaller structure that appear like naked bones against the muddy green and white of the warm winter landscape.

I have yet to work up the courage to get very close to the house (besides, I suspect I would be trespassing), but I have taken a few photos. More may be posted later. (All photos by myself.)

The house from behind the hill that hides much of it.
Eyes on me. There is a grove of birch next to the house.
The house from afar.
I dared only to venture this close.
It has a fantastic iron front gate.
Always locked. Except the one day it was not.
There is a low wooden fence, and these metal doors thrusting out from two pillars of stone.


The creak bed, beside the house.

I am aware the house is not Gothic in style or era, and I may soon find the answer to what it is, but I am relishing this eerie little bit of environment in my life.

Good luck on your own mysteries!


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