
Northern State Hospital isn’t as much of a curiousity to me as it is the default photo walk place for a quick fix when I can’t think of anything else. It’s relatively close to work, it is peaceful…
Correction, it was peaceful.
There wasn’t a soul in site as I wandered the deserted grounds of the old mental hospital yesterday afternoon with the Canon. It was the perfect reprieve until I crawled into the old kitchen (I’m guessing?), and a strange sense of loneliness descended upon me. Water dripped from the moss hanging from the jagged edges of decayed wood above, and in the dark, silent expanse of an almost unidentifiable room I stood completely still except for the wrist that twisted to check the time.
Something was wrong. Choosing not to question what that might be, I slowly exited the structure and didn’t turn back to face it once I hit the dirt path.
One might assume I’d just keep walking that path and leave. I would have, but as I rounded the corner I spotted the old apple tree from my posts earlier this year and felt the urge to revisit it. There was a moment of hesitation, but it was brief, and I walked cautiously up the hill to inspect the area.
I dodged the thorny blackberry bushes and made my way to the basement, capturing the picture above. As I framed the shot, I heard whistling.
Quiet.
The whistling was close, but quiet like a breeze with no leaves to rustle. It was sad with a note of malevolence. Click, click…time to GO!
I later shared this story with David, who had a creepy story of his own. And even though my heart didn’t race and my skin didn’t crawl at the time, my reaction was a tad different when looking at the pictures later. I’m thinking I’ll call it quits on Northern State for a while…unless David comes with me.

This is unrelated to my story, but when I started editing the photos, I spotted these objects above the window. Any idea what they are?