#I didn't even get to the island or Owens' history more in dept h !!

[normalwitch]

listen i’m so in love with the owens’ house. the production designer describes it as literally a cauldron, having a whole world in both the house and garden, and that it’s a sanctuary for the family, who are outcasts. they aren’t the only ones. the black cats they collect over the years are all from a shelter on the island. nobody wanted any of them because of superstition, fear of bad luck and wickedness ( black cats historically have been seen as omens of evil, suspected of being familiars of witches ) , so eventually they all gravitate to the owens’ house --- and then the women there accepted and take care of them. i love the symbolism of that alone. it’s just so poetically beautiful, outcasts finding refuge with outcasts !

there aren’t any clocks or mirrors inside the house. in the back there’s a henhouse, a potting shed, a large padlocked greenhouse, and a garden described to be so lush and green it’s dizzying. a gate leads to a bluestone path up to the porch, where the ivy and climbing wisteria grow, and the light is always turned on after midnight. this is the light the desperate townsfolk from jealous house wives to angelic women in the choir go when they want to visit the aunts for something they desire. a charm, a potion, a spell, a tea, a spell. during the daytime they’ll avoid crossing the same side of the street as the women living inside but they’ll still arrive to sit at the table and hand over cash ( though the aunts favor cameos and have a drawer stuffed full of them ).

when you step inside and over the threshold it seems like time moves at an entirely different pace removed from the outside world. even just trying to get  a peek within, there’s a current of discernible energy on the air, but good luck !! the damask curtains are almost always drawn, and the glass is old and thick, tinted with a green that makes everything look watery, almost like a dream. so maybe you’ll doubt what you see, if anything. or maybe you won’t, knowing the rumors swirling around the island and uttered since the 1600s.

the manor is so old that some of the wood used to make the paneling and mantels is extinct. a total of fifteen different types of woods have been used, including pine, golden oak, silver ash, and cherry fruit that gives off the scent of ripe fruit even in the winter. none of the woodwork itself ever gets dusty or needs polishing ( but sally takes it upon herself to dust and polish anyway ). there are three floors, a cellar, and two staircases. the one in the back is chillier, twisting like a puzzle, and the other is elegant and crafted from mahogany, leading all the way up to the turret that is like a single lighthouse tower. above the velvet-cushioned window seat on the landing of the front staircase is a portrait of the beautiful maria owens herself. her hair is pulled back with a satin blue ribbon and she’s wearing her favorite blue dress. sometimes it might feel like her eyes are watching you ( which might make sense, since when she was alive she fearlessly looked people straight in the eye, even if they were older or came from a higher class ).

it’s always cool, like a crisp autumn day. bats live in the attic, mice live in the walls. this changes after michael, sally’s husband, moves in, as i have discussed with @liminalchaos, despite the manor not needing the upkeep, it appreciates the efforts and dedication sally has always put into taking !! care !! of it ! because after michael moves in, the house becomes and stays cheery and warm. the bats move out of the attic and into the garden shed. roses begin to grow along the porch’s railing and choke all of the the weeds. the teardrop chandelier in the parlor tinkles back and forth on its own. through out the night a tranquil sound reminiscent of a flowing river fills the interior, glittering and trickling. it’s so sweet and melodic the mice come out to make sure that the manor is still in one piece, and a meadow hasn’t taken the house’s place.

the house. is. magic. even the bluestone path outside of it, which stops getting cold and icy during the winters after michael and sally get together. speaking of the stones !! maria brought them with her from ireland years ago to form the path in the garden. they’re protective, some would say lucky. extras are stored in the shed, along with maria’s rope. maria owens herself took matters of protection and luck very seriously. that’s why she planted so many things that still remain in the garden to the current day; fruit trees in the dark of the moon, hardy perennials, lavender, lilacs, roses, and strong onions and more. the owens will get down on their knees in the dirt and weed but never have to worry about earwigs. rabbits come to eat the mint, parsley and lettuce. aunt jet and frances are the ones to nail the skull of a horse on the fence to keep out gutsy and hungry neighbouring children.

the grimoire shifts back and forth between the conservatory and greenhouse. it’s a thick, black, tome that is cool to the touch, filled with layered pages that fold in and out; only, it will burn your hand if you touch it  and you’re not an owens. the conservatory has its glass beakers, tubing, vials and rows of potted plants, which is next to the potions room; the greenhouse outside holds bulbs and flowers, waiting to be planted in the autumn, along with those requiring special care. there are no mirrors in the house itself, but there is one hidden behind a black cloth inside of the greenhouse. it’s a curse or blessing ( undeniably magical ), however way you want to look at it. if an owens dares to remove the cloth to take a peek, she will see her reflection, along with shining images of the future to come.

back when maria owens was still alive and not too long after the victorian manor was built, a hurricane damaged all of the houses on magnolia street --- except for hers. not even the laundry hanging out on the line was disturbed. this incident helped fuel fear and rumors of her and her bloodline’s powers. it didn’t help when greenery on the island would brown and wilt and the owens’ garden flourished. any stroke of bad luck or mundane misfortune was swiftly blamed on the women living inside the house. while the garden was gated by a smaller fence, an even larger, black and spiky one circled the vast property. it looked like a snake to any outsiders. folk grew up and passed along superstitions. don’t walk past during nightfall, it’s not safe. only the most foolish would try to peer over the iron gate and into the yard. you risked being hexed or cursed, and being sorry for the rest of your life.

so this is long, and i bet i forgot details, i know i forgot details. like how the roof is a favorite place to go and lay out on to star gaze, look out at the ocean. the house, the property, it’s all spacious and rich with history. it’s a good thing it’s so big so that the women living inside it along with all the black cats that come and go have room to live and be free, even if it doesn’t always feel that way for them. it’s their safe place away from any prejudice or misunderstanding that might await them off their property. the owens women have largely always been envied and misunderstood. barely have any outside of blood dared to step inside the manor, since it's always been seen as too risky to do so !!