About 4 years ago my dad was visiting a stately home in Cornwall with my mum. They reached one room and my dad had to leave it pronto. Mum couldn't feel anything, but dad said he was positive something dreadful had happened in that room.
[
[/quote]QUOTE][quote=""AuntiePam""]I think my fascination began when I realized that the world didn't begin when I was born, and that people's lives didn't stop just because I wasn't watching them.
Yes, that's how I feel too. There's a wonderful poem by Tolkien called I sit and think which always calls to me in this vein.
I sit beside the fire and think
of all that I have seen,
of meadow-flowers and butterflies
in summers that have been;
Of yellow leaves and gossamer
in autumns that there were,
with morning mist and silver sun
and wind upon my hair.
I sit beside the fire and think
of how the world will be
when winter comes without a spring
that I shall never see.
For still there are so many things
that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring
there is a different green.
I sit beside the fire and think
of people long ago,
and people who will see a world
that I shall never know.
But all the while I sit and think
of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet
and voices at the door.