Homes and Walls

Reader Contribution by Michael Johnathon
Published on January 16, 2019
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There is an old spirit that lingers in the air of an older home. Especially hand- hewn logs milled from the sweat and soul of pioneers long gone, the craftsmanship and passion of workers who labored for dignity more than money.

We live in a log home. The picture you see here is not our home, but I can imagine the laughter and the life stories these log walls could tell. Those stories cling to the walls like a ghost, always there always silent but always speaking.

When I first found my log home, sitting on a hill surrounded by seven acres of woods and rich Kentucky land, I stood silent when I entered the first time. I could almost hear the laughter of the child that grew up there, the breakfast talk over coffee between the original owners. The joy and the sadness of the life this home nurtured.

I wrote a song about the stories the log walls held in that cabin, now my home, preparing to absorb my life and my stories. If you’re interested, you can hear the song:

YouTube video

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