At first glance, it’s just an old, dilapidated house sitting in the middle of nowhere. Its pink paint peeling after a century of battling the wind, rain, and sun, the battered house with the empty windows squats on the road as cars pass by on their way to Plum Island.
It’s easy to overlook.
But come in early evening as the setting sun illuminates the empty windows. Marvel at the glowing sky that mirrors the pinkness of the paint. The remoteness of this domestic structure in a wild place becomes a metaphor for sturdy New England resilience in the face of harsh elements.
The quiet solidness of the Pink House in Newbury has made it
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