I saw the most charming house today

I saw the most charming house today, encircled by trees whose branches swayed on the breeze. 

The house was three stories tall, and it had an attic. There was a small balcony on the corner, accessible by two doors–a perfect place to watch a thunderstorm. The bricks were a faded tan color. The white paint was chipped on every window frame and rail. But the house was glorious. It must have been an expensive house 100 years ago, the home to a moderately rich family, part-owners of a coal mine or something. But now it sits vacant, hidden in plain sight, overlooked by the mail person who passes it every day. Ivy has trailed up the chimney. House trailers have been placed on what must have been the back yard.

And all this makes me sad. It is a reminder of glory days gone by. It is a reminder of all that I still long for. I would love a life in this house, inhabited by birds and mice. It makes me want a simpler life. I see the beauty in an empty space, furnished just enough to allow one to make their favorite tea and stay dry from the rain.

Humans don’t need much. In fact, I believe we need less to find an inner joy, uninfluenced by external stuff, the only thing that will stay with us forever.