Prairie farmhouse interior left abandoned | Limited Edition of 10

Vintage Television in Forgotten Prairie Home

This scene stopped me. Not because it was grand or dramatic—but because it was so hauntingly ordinary. I found it deep in the Saskatchewan prairie, inside a weather-beaten farmhouse that hadn’t seen life in decades. Everything inside felt like it had been left mid-thought. A wooden chair, a 1950s television, broken cabinets, scattered like memories that never made it out the door.

I’ve walked through a lot of abandoned buildings, but this one hit different. The quiet was heavy. The wallpaper had peeled itself away like old skin, the lath showing through in spots like exposed ribs. And that TV—an old Admiral or RCA, I couldn’t tell—still stared blankly, its convex screen cracked with dust and time. It hadn’t broadcast anything in years, but it still commanded the room like it might.

What draws me to these places isn’t just the decay—it’s the persistence. That chair still stands upright. The walls still frame the space. This wasn’t a ruin so much as a snapshot of life paused indefinitely. You could almost picture someone sitting there, flipping between snowy channels, drinking coffee before heading out to tend cattle. Now it’s just air and absence.

I chose to print this one in black and white because colour felt unnecessary. The story is in the textures—the way the wood splinters, the plaster flakes, the shadows hold. It’s a reminder that history doesn’t always announce itself. Sometimes, it just waits quietly in a forgotten room.

If you’re drawn to that kind of visual storytelling—where time lingers in objects and space—you’ll want to browse the full Abandoned Photography Collection. And for scenes like this that echo a specific past, take a look at the Bygone Era Photography Collection, where memory and architecture intersect in quiet, powerful ways.

© Dan Kosmayer, 2021