“As it was abandoned, the gardens and its buildings took on some of the attractions of a ruin: the tools in the earth-smelling potting shed were dusty and remote, and spiders spun webs across the openings of watering cans, giving them the fabulous antiquity of casques in a buried hoard. The pump house had always had for him this quality of the remote, the barbaric, with its useless tiny windows and peaked roof and miniature eaves and cornices. It was a heathen shrine, and the iron pump was the long-crested, great-tongued idol.”
–John Crowley, “Little, Big”