When we hit one percent on our soul-battery, the basement was where we went to recharge.
The basement had the walls of a castle, strong grey rock that provided the house a firm foundation.
The basement was a solid and cosy place, a veritable cocoon for wings in need of rest.
Light flooded into the basement from the windows that crowned the room. My eyes were drawn upward toward the flowers of spring that were blossoming into the newly warmed air. All about the room were comfy chairs, a book shelf and guitars. It was the sort of place you could go to feel calm, to feel cradled by the earth and yet still under the sun.
In that basement there was a feeling of real safety, a calm sanctuary, a dependable sense of home.
When a house is build with love, the first evidence of such is in the solid construction of the basement, and this house was the best example I'd seen in quite some time.