There is something about the mystery of the stars, that casts a nostalgic light on this old house. Those prints in the snow, leading up to the house, seem like a lingering echo, of a time long past. Looking out those windows, past where I was photographing, you can see straight across Intermediate Lake. What did the first family of that home see I wonder, when they looked out those windows. Were the ice shanties plentiful. In the summer, did that lawn host a slew of yard games and shenanigans. I can nearly see candles in the windows being blow out, if I allow myself to get lost in the memory of this place. Does anyone know the history of this homestead? You may know the spot. It's at the inside of a sharp bend on Intermediate Lake Road. Please share if you can fill in the story with more than just my poetic ponderings.