It’s Thursday, June 26, 2014 at 1:06pm. Summer. Afternoon. I’m in the carriage barn with Griffin, checking on Doug’s progress. He has stepped away to work on something else more pressing, but his reading glasses sit on the damaged window pane he’s begun to remove, cutting away old glazing with a utility knife. A putty knife sits on an adjoining pane, already replaced, already glazed.
Midday sunlight pools on the glass, on the worn wooden floor below. Four large panes, two cracked, probably from a pebble shooting out of a lawn mower.
Griffin observes, nose deciphering the scene. He knows nothing of replacing cracked wavy glass, of glazing of sash and muntins. But he knows the rhythm of repairs — rehab ad infinitum — and the familiar scents of the carriage barn and Doug.
It’s Thursday, June 26, 2025 at 2:55pm. Summer. Afternoon. I’m in the icehouse loft, quiet, contemplative. The window’s imperfect reflection endures, intermingling light and shadow, reflection and fracture. The vision blurs, clarity shifting mirage-like between what is seen, what is remembered, and what is forgotten.
Doug Decker, Rosslyn’s property caretaker at the time these photographs were taken, no longer works with us. But his care and watchful presence still linger here. And Griffin, our labrador retriever who passed away in the autumn of 2019, likewise remains a gentle and enduring presence, his soulful gaze reassuring me unexpectedly.
At Rosslyn time’s progression is less linear and more sedimentary, accumulating in overlapping layers. Eleven years compress. Doug’s glasses on the windowpane suggest an interruption, not just of glazing, but of our lives, Rosslyn’s heritage, our braided history. The repaired window sash and carriage barn patiently endure, ready to witness the next chapter of care and attention, the next steward’s care.
Historic rehabilitation does not pretend to restore things to what they originally were. It honors what has been while making space for what comes next. Cracked glass replaced, panes reglazed, and summer afternoon rhythm memorialized. While Griffin and Doug are now absent, their care continues, ensuring the preservation of this place for posterity.
What do you think?