Houses
A decade ago this summer, I was in the midst of an extended, exploratory roadtrip across the U.S. and Canada. After a long day of driving that the western states demand, I parked my car, met up with friends for dinner, and returned in the evening.
My throat choked at the sight of my trunk a few inches inclined.
All of what I needed for months of travel in deserts, mountains, forests, and cities was in there. I lifted the lid to discover zero of my things missing. WHEW. But the experience revealed how my car had become so much more than a vehicle. It was my pantry, library, closet, spare bedroom for rainy nights, photography platform for starry nights, writing desk, reading nook, and general muse.
It was my home.
Our domestic structures contain so much of our human lives that we talk about the buildings as having souls and good bones.
In some recent archival research, I came across a phrase that I love: “the green house with golden nails,” a description of the monarch butterfly chrysalis, the resting stage between crawling caterpillars and winged wonders.
Curious about a potential narrative thread, I tried to find the origin. Many sources used a version of the quote but none with attribution. Finally, I tracked down an 1877 magazine article by a naturalist and insect enthusiast named Julia Perkins Ballard.
“There was no sound of hammer or sight of tools,” she wrote in her story about observing and then raising monarchs to study their behaviors. The piece was titled “The Green House with Gold Nails,” a less euphonic phrase because of the imbalanced syllables (3-with-2 instead of 3-with-3). But she used the metaphor several times, and she’s the first!
Whether your home is an early 1900s Sears kit, or something quite different, I hope you’ve made the place beautiful.
—
This newsletter was written on the traditional lands of the Menominee and Potawatomi.