In honor of Gaston Bachelard, I’d like to subtly bastardize the sentiment:
I should say: Rosslyn shelters day-dreaming, Rosslyn protects the dreamers, Rosslyn allows us to dream in piece.
It’s not always 100% evident to me. When a foundation leak graces us with a basement flood. Or Lake Champlain spills out of her banks and into our boathouse. Nor when a 100+ year old maple tree succumbs to blasting wind and smashes the hand made fence. Etc.
But on afternoons like today, the smallest things, like the way the morning light illuminates the carriage barn windows, I know. I understand that this wonderful old, living and breathing home provides for us in innumerable ways every day. I know that Rosslyn is a house of dreams. And for this I am extremely grateful.
Thank you, Keri and Gaston for the timely reminder!