Nestled into the pines and fog, Gerrish Island made quite an eerie first impression. A winding driveway guided by a rhythm of trees so mature only the trunks could be seen through the car windows. The tree canopy created a darkened tunnel, its curves never providing clues to when it would end. The awe came from the pure excitement of what we would find around the bend.
It was clad in age; dark weathered shingles, a mossy green trim, and craggy stonework. The screens had seen better days and the windows let in scant natural light. It had certainly been something special to its previous owners – a backdrop to highly anticipated summer escapes, grassy yard games, and beach days. It had been a special place to someone – empty now – but with the promise of huge potential.