The House Time Forgot

Nestled deep where shadows grow,

A cottage waits, its secrets cloaked.

Among the pines, so dark, so vast,

It hums with whispers of the past.

The shutters speak of days gone by,

Of lantern light and fire’s sigh.

Who called this quiet place their home?

Who dared the woods, who walked alone?

The air is thick with forest’s breath,

A stillness sharp as whispered death.

Yet something stirs, a gentle trace,

Of laughter lost, of time’s embrace.

Does it yearn for voices near,

For boots to tread, for hearts to hear?

Or is it content, in solitude,

To watch the world, in quiet mood?

The cottage stands, both shy and bold,

A sentinel of tales untold.

It beckons softly, asks you stay—

To hear what ghosts have left to say.

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This is the Sol Duc Ranger Station, but I love to reimagine it as something more. There’s a timeless quality to it, nestled in the forest like a quiet observer of history. When I took this photo years ago, I couldn’t help but feel like it was more than just a ranger station—it became the inspiration for my poem The House Time Forgot. In my mind, it’s a mysterious cottage, holding untold stories and surrounded by whispers of the forest. It’s fun to let my imagination wander and see this place in a completely different light!