There is little in the way of earthly magic than the quiet romance of a historic mansion. They have a certain wisdom about them: a wisdom which comes only with the tender graces of life and age, one which speaks truth behind old kindly eyes and laughs with a youthful promise of things to come. Their walls have seen so much, traced the footsteps of human narrative across their sighing floors, beheld the gentle affections of loves that came and went—they live a thousand lifetimes and carry those into endurance. It’s a magnificent dance of many souls housed in an unmoving framework, and I often wonder it their makers knew of the weight of their creations when hand laid stone so long ago.
It is hardly surprising, then, that we should bear such fascination with these enduring ladies and the striking romance of their history, and seek to add to such loveliness with a little beauty of our own. With that, Ashton & Frank strolled the many lovely corners of the Annesdale Mansion with Nikki Santerre in tow, soaked in the golden rays of a generous sun, bathed in a light that had little to do with day and everything to do with steadfast love.