Monday, July 13, 2009
In the dawn, it towers above the rest of the roof tops in its majestic and magical way. Dew gently wraps itself around the wood finials spiring to the heavens. At dusk, one can see the various shadows dancing on the gables and in the peaks and valleys of the slate hip roof. Living in-town down the street from the George B. Brown House (circa 1898) gives one pause and standing in awe, I sometimes wonder what it might have been like during Ipswich's industrial hey day visiting or dining with the Brown's in one of only two of our Town's most majestic ladies.