Over at the once-abandoned property across the street, workers have been busy tearing down the cabins. It is a relief, as they were vandalized and falling apart anyway.
One cabin, in particular, is much better gone.
Cabin Number 5.
At one point vagrants took over this cabin. When the Police chased them away, they left behind a mountain of garbage.
Several years later, someone lost their life there.
The Police called it a "suspicious suicide".
In the years since, people have heard voices coming from the cabin, and I even took a picture that had a strange shimmering in one corner. I'm not sure what happened to that picture.
So I was glad, glad, GLAD when this was the first cabin to go.
When I first noticed the cement slab that remained, I found this gouged cement heart.
And felt better.
Much better. The birds were singing, plants were starting to grow over the scarred earth, and there was a cleanliness of spirit instead of dread.