The first of this month was the end of our making music in the Silver St. house. I loved every noisy floorboard in that house. The songs that evolved inside its walls are the songs that I hope to sing forever. And because the historic gardens that once surrounded Silver St. are now gone, I’ve decided to share some carefully preserved photos of the house from when it was once alive, photographic remnants of an eccentric past, lush gardens and lakes. A week of late evenings in now empty rooms, swinging on the front porch playing music and listening to the neighborhood were all proper goodbyes.