What a simple thing a window, and yet such a joy. A few panes of glass stretched tightly between a web of wood woven by the hand. What small matter to pierce the rough timber hide of our home to let in light and cheer and warmth. To welcome the sun as an honored guest, as a friendly neighbor whose passing you wish to halt a while for chat, to give him a seat, a cup of tea, or a smile.
What a joy to make, these windows, with cherished heart of pine, so carefully saved against the weather, for a rainy day as it were, tucked away under some stack as it dried and through aging became wise and tough, and through planing straight and true. “True of heart” it simply becomes. And with chisel tip, and saws bright edge and augers point, a frame is wrought, strong and square.
What a comfort they bring, these sashes carved from pines trued heart. Bringing warmth and cheer on even a bitter and dreary day into a dark abode. A place to bask and stretch the limbs, yes a spa for cats! What other purpose would we have in mind, than for them a throne to sit, watch the wren with relish and lick a paw?
What a perfect gift they are, this ageless wisdom, this zenith of craft and home design. To add a sash outside, and a shutter within, to trap a bit of air which guards us from the chill or heat, and all by hand, and from our land, no need for the modern industrial construct, the expensive junk of modernity which fails and transports to some landfill, and to do it all with such striking beauty, such purity and grace of form!
We truly have forgotten more than we shall ever know…