I took a little drive this week to spend some time with two churches I have wanted to photograph for a long while.
They are quaint.
They are a part of Calgary’s history and I have a bit of a soft spot for history.
But most of all they are full of forgotten, untold stories.
As I walked around the grounds, I couldn’t help but reflect on those stories and who keeps them. Couples have been married, families have said good-bye to loved ones and I’m certain many have received peace and solace all within these walls of worship. Now they sit at the side of a busy thoroughfare leading to down town Calgary. People drive past these churches everyday and don’t even see them.
In fact it wasn’t until I was quite close to the second little church that I could see someone had tried to burn it down. Now it sits there holding the stories of happier days within its burnt walls textured with peeling paint. I will admit, despite the bright spring sun, the burnt little church in fact made me feel a little sad. History often has a way of making me feel this way. Perhaps it is the sense that maybe one day my story too will be forgotten.