When you are a regular bicycle commuter you see the seasons come and go, a farm field transformed to full-fledged house, or—if you are a city rider—a business blossom or change hands. Along my route, I've watched with interest, this plot of land on the former site of a small maple sugaring operation.
The land sat idle for a couple years (Palmer's is still in operation; they moved up the road into bigger digs.) until one summer a small RV with a lone guy took up residence.
The Hooter's sign was an unusual touch. I happened by when a woman in a red convertible pulled up, got out, took a snapshot with her phone and got back in her car and sped off. The sign didn't last long, disappearing a month later.
And then there was the fake bear that was "moved" around. Sometimes his head was in a tipped over garbage pail; other times in a tree or a stuffed bird perched on his head. I enjoyed the bear's antics. Sadly, the bruin was gone this summer.
This guy is nothing if not industrious. He's hearty too. He spent the last two winters living in his tiny abode, I imagine, with a source of heat. He keeps busy, taking down old wooden fence posts that fronted the property, back-filled low areas. This year he put up a new mailbox.
I like the sugar house look. The "venting" is really a metal syrup container. The post rests in a milk can. Ingenious.
The man is slowly dismantling the exterior of the shack. At first I thought he was restoring the building to someday call it home, but I can't tell now. It would make for an interesting remodel, like those folks that renovate old churches and one room schoolhouses into habitable structures.
Oddly, I hardly ever see the man outside or else I'd engage him in conversation. I'd love to know his story...