Several weeks ago I accompanied my husband to Walgreens where he got his first Covid vaccine shot. It’s not a location where we normally go, but it wasn’t too far from where we live. He parked the car facing a busy four-lane highway. There the highway runs along the base of a modest sized mountain before it rises and crosses over going south and east.

I stayed in the car and, as I sat there, I noticed that the traffic was fairly heavy with cars, trucks, and eighteen wheelers. I looked at the surrounding businesses—places to eat, shop, and have car work done. After a little while, I looked over at the mountain across from where I sat. It was covered in trees except in a few spots. I could see what looked like houses and a few apartments buildings on the side of the mountain.

I look up to the top of the mountain

Then my eyes were drawn up to the very top. There were no trees—only a row of large houses. Their silhouettes stood out against the sky. There was little around the houses to soften the jagged outline. Each house sat on the summit and together they resembled a row of teeth with every other one missing.

My first thought was, “That is not very attractive.” Then I pondered why anyone would do that to the top of a majestic mountain. It destroyed the beauty that nature had provided.

Many houses are built on the top of mountains. In some ways it makes sense. No need to worry about flooding. The views can be spectacular. Living in the mountains can be peaceful. You can be surrounded by flora and fauna. None of that was the case here. This was a housing development built in a row on the top of a mountain just because they could do that. 

After I thought about the houses for a few minutes, I pulled out my iPhone and starting scrolling through Facebook. Almost immediately, this quote appeared on the Fallingwater Facebook page:

No house should ever be on a hill or on anything. It should be of the hill. Belonging to it. Hill and house should live together each the happier for the other.

— Frank Lloyd Wright in his 1932 autobiography

I had to smile. How serendipitous! In that moment, I witnessed first hand the juxtaposition of ideas, style, and aesthetics. This quote certainly made sense.