Have you ever been somewhere you know you've never been before, but had a sense of deja vu or even an odd feeling that place had called you there?
In the fall of 2020, I got to explore this special feeling in a beautiful publication by Blue Sky Press called The Meaning of Home:
We followed the realtor’s car up the long tree lined drive. As the house on the hill came ever closer, it felt as if a door warmly, gently closed from behind, wrapping and enveloping us in this place. Claiming us. The old, pretty white farmhouse at the top of the hill spoke to me then as it has countless times since, “We’ve been waiting for you.”
It’s true what they say about houses. They have souls. We looked at countless houses before this one and all of the them were not quite right in that just right way. Well-appointed or nicely manicured or stylishly decorated. But they didn’t feel like this one. There’s love in this house, I remember thinking to myself. I sensed it back then and I know it down to my bones now.
An old house comes with projects, and we took to making it ours. Renovating and updating but ever mindful of honoring what was here before us. With every mark we made, we became more conscious of the marks already here. The house keeps delivering gifts to remind us: a beautiful set of timeworn keys found in an old drawer; a 1910 fireplace uncovered by surprise behind a wall; and especially, the colorful array of sunrises framed by the huge, old, original front door.
I take a picture of the sunrise, almost every day. I’m not sure why. Maybe because it is a daily reminder of just how much love and beauty there is right where you are, if you just simply, slow down, settle in, and look at it.
No matter how you encounter Broadlawn Farm--whether through pictures, social media, or in person--we hope that we can create that unique, magical feeing of being home, for you.
Watercolor by Liz Scott of Liz Scott Designs