The document describes a visit to an old brick house called Walnut Hill located on a hill down a lonely road. The house is over 200 years old and was once owned by the Prince family. As the author approaches the house, they feel a sense of familiarity and connection to the property. Upon touching a window, the author feels a painful jab in their fingertips, as if being forced back. Many pictures hang on the walls inside. The author feels captivated by the grand old house, which still seems bound to its past and fallen dead despite standing proudly for over two centuries.

1. Val Littlewolf
By vallittlewolf | Feb. 2011
Walnut Hill
By Val Little Wolf
High on a hill down a lonely bit of road sits and old brick house, Seeking
refuge wandering down a road of dirt and stone,
I happened as if on an adventure finding an old familiar friend. The turn off
the road of Valley Burg heading toward Stony Man, A small hamlet wasted
from time it stands.
Upon Walnut Hill Road a mere rockthrow upon this road the turn lies, A
home once own by a family name of Prince.
The lane whines gently like a melody of Chopin’s not like a cadence from a
long forgotten war. The road starts toward the brick home that calls me from
a time in another re-incarnation. I know this place, I feel it serge through me
like a forgotten call. My hand rests, gently upon the wall of the little
cemetery.
The most predominate stone close to the earth rises the intensity of power
held earthbound the grand old lady’s protection for her home still guards this
land. Back in Georgia my little Geo we ride the 70 feet toward the house
fierce and Private, She shouts, but not “Go Away”,
I feel welcome Home; I know this house from the ground I stand upon; To
the stairs curiously pulls me up the steps as mystery plays within my senses.
The death that occurred here spirit holds this house.
Touching a window pain, “Bam it was as if I was forced back from the pain
of the window.” A Jab had tingled it’s way through my finger tips. Upon the
wall many pictures hung. I haven’t these three years traveled by this grand
ole Virginia home. Delight of her holds me captive, This Grand ole lady has
known much. Over two hundred years she has stood, proud, faithful waiting
her fallen dead. Of all the homes near Luray, VA; it held me spell bound it is
she who has captivated my soul and spirited me away. This house,
peacefully bound to the future held by the past. It is here that I long to sit
upon her porch. To be one in spirit with the one that still remains here.

2. “Walnut Hill”3/24/2005 7:22:50 PM