Two days to the light
Decades ago we bought this home in the winter.
We walked into this house and immediately fell in love with the light. Large windows on the east and west sides of the main area, a large window on the front of the house, the light spilled throughout the space. We stood in what was then the kitchen and dining room and pointed at the winter sunbeams on the floors and walls.
We fell in love with the light.
The house in incredibly well-designed as far as light goes. The eaves are such that in winter the light slants into the house and in summer the rooms are largely shaded. The main picture window faces north, which is always shaded from direct light, but it is large and we do not have a front porch so it fronts directly on the outdoors. The house is quite small and from the front picture windows I can see straight through to the south-facing bathroom window. The light pours into it at this time of year.
I often think about the people who built this home. This original in the 19-teens, the addition in the 1930s. When we remodeled everything a few years ago we found artifacts from the 1930s stuck in the walls. A budget list. A raincheck for the minor league baseball team. An old ashtray. A wooden spoon. We kept all the things, using and framing them as warranted. A hundred years ago, Christmas 1923, a couple lived in this house. Their bedroom was where the tv room is now. We know that the east-facing windows were original to the construction. We've replaced the actual windows themselves in the lat twenty years, but the light is the same.
One hundred years later, the light is the same.
We walked into this house and immediately fell in love with the light. Large windows on the east and west sides of the main area, a large window on the front of the house, the light spilled throughout the space. We stood in what was then the kitchen and dining room and pointed at the winter sunbeams on the floors and walls.
We fell in love with the light.
The house in incredibly well-designed as far as light goes. The eaves are such that in winter the light slants into the house and in summer the rooms are largely shaded. The main picture window faces north, which is always shaded from direct light, but it is large and we do not have a front porch so it fronts directly on the outdoors. The house is quite small and from the front picture windows I can see straight through to the south-facing bathroom window. The light pours into it at this time of year.
I often think about the people who built this home. This original in the 19-teens, the addition in the 1930s. When we remodeled everything a few years ago we found artifacts from the 1930s stuck in the walls. A budget list. A raincheck for the minor league baseball team. An old ashtray. A wooden spoon. We kept all the things, using and framing them as warranted. A hundred years ago, Christmas 1923, a couple lived in this house. Their bedroom was where the tv room is now. We know that the east-facing windows were original to the construction. We've replaced the actual windows themselves in the lat twenty years, but the light is the same.
One hundred years later, the light is the same.