The solitary house rises rosy-hued and defiant in the midst of a salt marsh, like a grand dame keeping up appearances. A closer look reveals a sadness reminiscent of an Edward Hopper painting—the facade peeling, plantings overgrown—an icon of a bygone era.
The Pink House, as it has come to be known, captures the imagination of just about everyone who passes it along the Plum Island Turnpike in Newbury. Even local wildlife is drawn to it—snowy owls and hawks often perch on the cupola, rising above the surrounding wetlands.
While the house inspires artists to paint and children to tell ghost stories, for Juliette Loring, it inspires
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