While this is not an “almost” it is a house that I have thought of since having seen it during one of our trips to the safari tent. How she is begging to be loved and how rightfully she deserves such attentions.
I love the proportions, so similar to those lopsided crayon drawings of what a house could be from our youth.
And yet there are elegant touches, such as this wrought iron railing…
…and a trellis hanging abundant with vines despite relying solely on self-care for who knows how long.
At the base of the house, a fountain of cool spring water pours continuously…
…an echo of the brook that hiccups unabashedly…
…while bringing a jewel-toned garden to life.
And while there are many homes in this tiny village that stand waiting…
…and I am reassured by the treatment of a Front National poster…
…that perhaps a foreigner like myself would be welcome…
…to find my way amidst these winding back roads to something like home…
…for now I will simply sit and dream.
In my mind, I will strip the walls of the scarred stucco and replace it with a slick of lime-wash instead. I can sand the wood, condition it and paint it something simple, pure white perhaps, for this would be a happy house. And finally I would open up the windows, sweep the floors and let in the mountain air to kiss it clean.
Do you see what I see?
PS. I am finally (!) switching to Mail Chimp for delivery of email subscriptions starting with this post. I hope that you will bear with me while I iron out any technical glitches. Once this is taken care of, I can focus on more important things…like writing and photography! Thanks for your understanding…
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