Classic symmetry and balance define Rosslyn’s four buildings. Her architecture, design, and massing all borrow from Federal, Georgian, and Greek Revival traditions that celebrate order, proportion, and classical harmony. Each window placement, column spacing, and roofline reflects these timeless principles of visual equilibrium. But Rosslyn’s shutters consistently flout this restraint and intentionality. Windblown and temporarily unfettered by shutter dogs, they defy the disciplined and purposeful, celebrate the full freedom of asymmetry.

In buildings where nothing is arbitrary — each architectural element is positioned with precision and deliberate regard for its relationship to the whole, a meticulous arrangement of elements where each facade, aperture, and cornice contributes to an overall sense of compositional unity — shutters askew flaunt everything that these timeless buildings represent.
Right? It seems an obvious conclusion. A black eye on an otherwise perfect portrait. Tempestuous times challenging a timeless stalwart…
Is this the new normal? Battered by extreme weather. Storm damage to trees and house. Power out. Generator failing to function… (Source: Battered by Power-Outing Thunderstorm – Rosslyn Redux)

But this hasty judgement’s too quick and easy. Too obvious. Too misleading.
In yesterday’s post I touched obliquely, perhaps, on a frequent refrain.
For now is a time of transformation and new beginnings, an observation that butterflies just might know best of all. (Source: Black Swallowtail)
I’m reminded of a distant echo.
What the caterpillar calls the end of the world, the master calls a butterfly. — Richard Bach
Yes, there’s a reminder here that owning an old home is a never-ending problem solving adventure. But there’s also an invitation to wonder.

For now, one window in our bathroom is half-shuttered. View and natural light curtailed. But unfamiliar, even slightly intriguing from within. And picturesque from without.
One shutter open. One shutter closed. Subtle asymmetry, anthropomorphic, as if hands and forearms lifted, turning away to protect oneself from a pelting gale. A windblown shutter with a story to tell… (Source: Windblown Shutter)
What is that story?
The bathroom is unshuttered haphazardly. Decidedly unselfconscious. Not ready for photography. A particular point in time on a particular day when the outdoors was welcomed in just a little bit more than usual. There’s something almost cinematic in the spontaneity and authenticity of this scene. (Source: Bathroom Unshuttered)
What is that movie?
Shutters Askew Haiku
Sometimes akimbo —
safe, stately if slightly stern —
sometimes loose and free
What do you think?