There’s just something so reassuring about an old building. Layers of paint doing their best to preserve the vulnerable wood beneath, that despite it’s best effort, succumbs to the heat and rain and humidity so abundant in Florida. There’s a story in the paint, the disrepair, of life gone by. The styles and priorities of those who thought enough of this area to build a main street are still evident in the architecture.
This is one of my favorite buildings in the old, very small, downtown area of the town where I live. It is mostly a forgotten main street; stores yielding to dance studios and a karate school. I like to imagine a shoe repair shop, compounding pharmacy where the pharmacist knew every client by name. Maybe there was a notions store with a soda fountain or a beauty shop. Women’s heels clicking along the sidewalk as they shopped from store to store.