This is the façade of the house I stayed when I was in France in the early years of my development work. The house was built before WWI and survived WWII and raised many children who all have stories tucked in their belt to be told during winter dinner in front of fireplaces or during breaks after gathering grapes.
When I was there one spring, I met a group of people, not so young people, whose hobbies included looking at old houses and trying to imagine its history with the changes that had been made on the house, by simply looking at it and later confirming with the owners (though I have no idea what that hobby is called). They imagined and described what used to be a doorway or an arch support or a window sealed up to accommodate renovations. They backed it up with history lessons and seasons when changes were made. It was entertaining and enlightening at the same time, a good way to spend an afternoon of history lesson instead of just reading them in books — live accounts of history is well worth your time.
When I joined them in their scouts I was definitely entertained, a good way to know more about the village I am at, at the same time awed at how one person can describe “one wall” like he lived there and backed it up with trivia I am not even sure are true ha ha. The evidence was there of course – the new cement or the new stones and other tell-tale signs of the change they imagined.
It was fun, I enjoyed those afternoon later capped by a shot of Port, that sweet cherry tasting wine we drank in the afternoon after looking at several walls around the village before calling it a night and until the next meeting.
I go back to my home in Verze and have endless chat with my host family over endless cups of coffee or varieties of cheeses and wine.
Can you see the wrinkles on the wall?
For the Weekly Photo Challenge – Wall