Reflections and shadows make up each home
Years ago, Rita was almost as good looking as her namesake Rita Hayworth. When she started selling homes for a realtor, she developed what I thought to be an intelligent agenda. The goal of her careful plan was to focus attention only on each house.
First, she pinned back and covered her beautiful hair with a plain hat. She adopted faux spectacles of pure glass, covered her smashing figure with straight, unbelted outfits and wore flat shoes. Her look was pleasant, efficient and groomed. She knew buyers shouldn't look at HER.
But the original, smart twist she added, helpful to me and others, I'll never forget. Rita asked each looker to sit in every room. She said, "Walking through a house misses the FEEL of it. Sitting quietly while you observe, encourages you to pretend it's your home."
True. We know that when company enters our place, the chatter begins. They don't notice golden haloes reflected on the ceiling in a wavering circle above a filigree lamp. Or the etched glass doors throwing designs and shadows on a wooden deck, patterns changing and moving with each sun or moon position.
Ever since Rita, I've enjoyed reflections and shadows. I remember homes by how they felt and the kind of background they provided for our five senses.
In this house as I lie in the hammock looking up toward the trees, certain leaf patterns become lace floating against the sky. Having seen demonstrations of fractile geometry, I can imagine perfect, endless designs between and inside the leaves.
In one home, looking up at the corner of the carport, my 11-year-old and I decided it was a space ship about to launch. He created E. T. scenarios long before that movie.
A fence makes patterns in the yard for the cat to catch with a quick paw. Glass block miniaturizes a rosy bush. Lattice on a front porch waves its shadow in silent breezes.
A ceiling fan throws a blade shadow out the door and it looks like my grandson's arm motioning as he sings to me.
More memories. A bed spread rumples dark and light to remind me of my 3-year-old lying naked on her back weaving a sock through her toes when she's supposed to be all dressed. I start to speak, but she says, "I'm thinking where my feet have walked."
A mirror reflecting the outdoor barbecue, makes the fire seem to come from a bush. Was the voice from the burning bush an echo and reflection from shiny boulders?
A curtain floats inward from its window. It looks like my other daughter dancing to Faust's ballet music, unable to stop twirling until the music within her stops.
Rita was so right. Every home has a feel to it, and reflects moods and memories. Sit and look at the house from a lounge chair before you buy. We sit in our homes. We don't trot.
I personally will never stop seeing new angles to our house and those of friends. No millionaire's estate could give more gratification than living in this area. Every home and its reflections and shadows is unique to its occupants.