Flowing water tumbled over a circular cascade. I loved it and I wanted it in our back yard. The arrangement was a temple: a temple to water. Afterward, I saw some pictures of it with blooming flower beds, and I'm sure it's lovely, too; but in the losened grip of winter, the play of stones and water was more apparent. (And using the internet, I see that it gets used for weddings.)
Because I was there on a Very Late Winter Monday Morning, I had the whole place to myself -- there were no wedding receptions, church retreats, or wandering campers. The flowing water masked noises of traffic and RVs.
The fountains were enchanting. I loved the mystery of the ruins, although I could see that the columns had a tile façade instead of real stone. The builders made clever use of walls, boulders and the existing stream to create an enclave to watery currents. Each spot had a niche or window. I would love to see the structure's geometry in snow (and the internet has provided a glimpse).
Surrounded by forest hills wreathed in mist, it was easy to imagine I was in another world. It was the sort of place Arthurian characters might tarry for adventures in. It was the sort of place I could bring tea and sandwiches (and chocolate) to and write (but probably not on a weekend or during wedding season).
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