Growing up in Central New York, just southwest of the Adirondack Mountains and often traveling south to the foothills of the Allegheny, I often found myself in the backseat of the family car staring out the window, soaking in the beauty that lay around me.
I dreamed of some day living in a beautiful A-frame house perched high up in those foothills looking down upon a little town far below in a grassy, green valley.
I could imagine looking out through a wall of windows as I sat within its sunny interior, and of sleeping in its open loft, below a glowing, wooden ceiling. There was a free standing fireplace and the modern furniture of the day that made my A-frame’s form complete.
But all that was the stuff of a little girl’s daydream, or at least, I thought it was.
In the Fall of 2017, I saw this, a realtor’s picture of what would, in 2018, become my little A-frame. It sat perfectly framed by a leafy canopy of trees. It looked as if it lived in a storybook, but now I see it had been living in this little girl’s dreams.
