Blog Archives
faded (old) glory
Just because buildings are vacant/abandoned doesn’t mean there’s nothing to see.
This little vignette’s got metal siding where a big plate glass window used to be with a smaller window stuck in. And – and! – a very tattered and faded American flag.
The other side of the shot has a sign whose awkward wording led me to read it as “home drop off please no furniture” which naturally made me wonder why they wanted people to just drop off vacant homes. Ah, language: so amusing. Ha, my thought process: probably not so amusing.
Tahoka, Texas
photographed 3.5.2026
a specific danger
And while the whole building may look dangerous, I guess it’s just that one corner of the garage door that we need to worry about. (Which is very helpful information, right?)
Lamesa, Texas
photographed 3.5.2026
thumbprint
the passage
An abandoned farmhouse on the High Plains tells a story – a story of dreams, of rural traditions and expectations, of change, of endings.
An abandoned farmhouse with a wheelchair ramp tells a story that seems more complicated. And more sad.
Lynn County, Texas
photographed 2.28.2026
flat/screen
Last week I had to drive to Tahoka for a meeting; on the drive I kept my eyes open for future photos.
This farmhouse was one of the things I saw and it was my first stop on a weekend photo-drive.
Every one of these old houses looks basically the same on the inside, with crap just piled up everywhere. But then again, each one is different. I’ve seen shoes and clothes and books and dolls and tires and jars of applesauce.* This one featured not only a deceased rat lying on its back on the sofa, like it was taking a little nap, but it also had the morning light coming through windows and a broken flat-screen television.
Lynn County, Texas
photographed 2.28.2026
*I first wrote “jars of applesauce and tires” which sounds like an impossible thing but also sounds like something I’d really like to see.
One Day | One Image 