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The main road that led to and from Caerdydd was now a network of vines, grasses and roots that had taken hold of every bit they could get. Fallen trees block some of the paths while others continue to grow, their branches no longer prevented from growing into houses.
Doors were broken, rotten and in most cases barely a door at all. Whether this was the work of looters, animals or the elements was unclear, but it didn’t really matter. Many roofs had collapsed and in some cases had taken the entire building with it. Others looked in decent shape and were simply dirty and filled with bird nests.

Caerdydd, once a growing town on the rise to a better future had been forsaken and left to rot alone. The sounds of insects, winds and creaking wood of trees which were once drowned out by the sounds of cars and people had returned as the dominant sounds once more.
The art gallery was once the cultural pride and joy of this town and tourists flocked to see the art displayed here. Now it was home to a flock of doves who’ve destroyed most art pieces in their ignorance of what it once meant to so many people.

You could go anywhere in town you wanted, walk into any home and visit any previously private part of town, assuming it hadn’t been destroyed by nature already. But even though everything may seem like it was lost forever there was still a silver lining. While this town was no longer home to the families that lived here, it was now home to families of wild animals.

What was once a busy roadway that led to Ballater was frail and no longer able to support anything or anybody without the risk of collapsing under their weight. Dry grass, dying bushes and withering flowers are all that’s left of the once well kept gardens.
Some doorways seemed in relative decent condition while others were destroyed and were indistinguishable from other collapsed walls and piles of rubble. A few rusted cars still stood in their driveways, though most were stripped of all their spare parts.

Ballater, once home to thousands of families and counting was now but an eerie shell of its former self. The creaking of wood and grinding of metal on metal were the only sounds in this town now. They were disturbing noises in a disturbing environment.
In an almost sick sense of irony the museum, once home to relics from the past discovered and recovered by archaeologists from around the world, was now once again lost and forgotten. Waiting to be found by those who come next.

No matter how you looked at it this town was an eerie sight to behold. Lives forgotten, perhaps completely ruined and there was barely anything to show for it. But there was something oddly poetic about nature reclaiming what was once theirs to begin with.

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