The Spring House

 I can't be quite sure what it is - spring house, smoke house, brick s--t house, but I know it's old and becomes increasingly lovely with every passing year. Of course those who built in, probably in the mid-19th century, would see it as derelict and falling down and probably would be shedding a tear for its demise. But isn't that the way of the world?

 Situated not far from Sam's house, itself a 19th century structure, this old brick edifice is cracked from top to bottom. It will eventually crumble into a pile of ruddy rubble so I thought now would be a good time to capture it with photographs.
 It's old wooden roof is rotten, the bricks spall with a 150 winters' onslaughts and even the few repairs are coming loose. Sitting at a slight angle, relentless gravity is pulling it aside.

 Its location near a small stream which feeds Little Twin Creek leads me to believe it is a spring house.

 A closer view of the south-facing window shows the condition of the wood. The bricks, even where they are in good shape, need re-pointing. This is a structure of the past, without current use but for storage, and it will not survive another century.
 Even in its condition, I love the look. I'd probably not give it a passing glance if it was pristine, but broken-down as it is, I suppose I feel some sorrow for it. Every day as I walk in Sam's lane, I never fail to look at it and smile. It stands up to the weather, even now, even when I stay indoors.