Morning is my muse. One of my muses. A favorite muse. And since our earliest visits to Rosslyn, the front entrance, sunrise illuminating — if barely, hesitantly — the Federal foyer, the front hallway, the staircase risers, the buttery walls, the warmly patinated nickel chandelier and sconces,… this moment in this place has been and remains another of my favorite muses. Lifting my gaze from the here to the beyond, looking out, lakeward, through the embellished side lites flanking the entrance door, I absorb slowly the textured layers of morning.
Rosslyn’s entrance features an elliptical arched transom lite and sidelites. The handmade millwork’s intricate design incorporates true divided lites with radius muntins. This elaborate interior/exterior divide accentuates the first of the textured layers of morning. A semitransparent grill or screen, porous but present, defining two distinct realms. The foreground is warm and cozy, the smell of lapsang souchong wafting from my mug, patient dog at my feet. Beyond the embellished window, a chilly November dawn, lake lightly riffled.
Contemplating the day birthing beyond wavy glass and millwork other textured layers — fence and sunburst gate, lakeside guardrail, and a filigree of leafless branches — further filter morning’s progress.
Like screens or frames, these textured layers of morning, veil and protect, veil and intrigue. Fenestration filtered. View subtly organized and corralled.
What do you think?