Glenrosa’s tranquillity in Second Life

{ Glenrosa }; Inara Pey, October 2018, on Flickr{ Glenrosa } – click any image for full size

Update: {Glenroas} has closed. SLurl have therefore been removed from this article.

The Destination Guide led me to { Glenrosa }, a stunning Homestead region designed by Brandi Monroe and her SL partner Gabriel (gabriel4botto) which – at the time of writing – deservedly sits within the Editor’s Picks section of the DG.

It is a place specifically designed to encourage exploration; a countryside location caught in the early bloom of morning, where the rising mist drifting across unpaved paths and between wooded hills gives a siren call for us to eat a warm breakfast, don thick coats and hiking boots and set forth before the Sun gets too high above the horizon. The region description adds to this call, inviting visitors to “set off down the winding road or take the shoreline,” and noting that whichever route is taken, surprises await discovery.

{ Glenrosa }; Inara Pey, October 2018, on Flickr{ Glenrosa }

The winding road in question lies close to the region’s given landing point, located just above the shoreline on the north coast. Two dry stone walls cup the landing point within their arc, the shingle coastline presenting a view of the broad, flat sea watched over by a squat off-shore lighthouse just away to the east, framed by the rising Sun.

The two dry stone walls are prevented from touching one another by the tall pillars that between them support wrought iron gates guarding the road. The stone stags atop the pillars, together with the region’s name, give the impression this is some landed estate, with the overall ambience of the setting giving me the feeling I could be somewhere in the remoter parts of Scotland – although admittedly, banyan trees aren’t typically found in Scotland.

{ Glenrosa }; Inara Pey, October 2018, on Flickr{ Glenrosa }

This feeling was heightened during my wanderings by the discovery of a single-track railway line running the short distance from a tunnel to a set of buffers, passing a small country station along the way. Clearly a spur line, it is not hard to imagine a small regional train – perhaps a privately owned steamer – pulling into the station with one or two vintage rail cars, so that visitors might alight and explore before the train reverses its way back down the track.

The feeling that this is – or once was – a private estate is further heightened by the presence of a grand hunting lodge at the end of the road leading up from the landing point. Furnished throughout, the Lodge shares the setting with a small chapel a short distance away, atop a  rocky hill. No longer used as a place of worship, the chapel is surrounded by gravestones, giving the impression it may have once been a family chapel and burial plot.

{ Glenrosa }; Inara Pey, October 2018, on Flickr{ Glenrosa }

The house can also be reached along the coast, following the shingle beach towards the Sun and where it broadens alongside the lighthouse before turning south. Along the way, it passes steps leading up to the chapel and one of the surprises in the region: a grand piano sitting under the banyan tree; one of several places where time can be spent in quiet contemplation.

More such places can be found scattered across the landscape, from a little deck built out over the cold-looking waters close to the lodge, to up over the train tunnel, where a little vagabond camp has been set up. This is reached by way of a small house overlooking the railway line on one side, and out across the fir trees and rocky hills of the estate on the other. Down the slope from this little house, possibly once cared for by whoever many have at one time lived in it, is an orchard, still very much being cultivated, although the house itself no longer appears to be a working home.

{ Glenrosa }; Inara Pey, October 2018, on Flickr{ Glenrosa }

A cinder track continues beyond the beach behind the main house, arcing slightly up and away from the coast before dropping back to rejoin the shingles. It leads the way to where part of the land has been flooded to form a natural inlet, its narrow neck spanned by an old bridge. Here the setting, with reeds and trees growing from the water and the wooden shack to one side, is perhaps more mindful of a Louisiana swamp than a place sitting somewhere on the Scottish  coast – but it still feels very much a part of the overall landscape, and it offers more places to sit and spend time in the region.

Caught by the rising Sun, { Glenrosa } also lends itself to other daytime windlights – although for once I’ve tended to keep to the default in the images here. Those who do take photos are invited to add them to the region’s Flickr group, and there is more than enough here to keep anyone’s camera busy.

{ Glenrosa }; Inara Pey, October 2018, on Flickr{ Glenrosa }

Although sitting within a sim surround, I confess I found the rolling, rocky landscape dominated by fir trees, to be more attractive with it derendered to present a more coast-like setting (although just having one side of the region open to water would have really done the trick). Nevertheless, with its gently undulating landscape, this is a place of beauty rounded-out by a gentle soundscape and is definitely not a destination to be missed.