Plainsong

Blessed with the beauty of the tranquil sea, one does not curse the sound of its waves breaking upon the shore. In the placidity of this home, both inside and out – the perfect axis of breadth of vision, of green, of light, of repose – likewise, one can hardly curse the sound of traffic amongst the trees. It is a pulse of life; not an annoyance. In this uniquely charming sanctuary, beguiled into a composure of quiet wonder – so splendid is the reward of acquiescence to the sublimity of nature – all the senses do conspire to transcend any and every discomfiture.