surrounded by buildings much larger and more spectacular than itself. The house - I assume it was once a house - is visible from surprisingly far off, even when the shifting angles of Norwich's unfolding hills would seem to make that impossible. It was built, it seems, in 1742, but I don't know what or who for. Now it contains offices. It's one of those structures I am inordinately fond of; they are never the ones with the shiny gold dome or the magnificent facade. I like this one for its double chimneys and its little dormer window, its two double doors, and the way they match both the fire hydrant and the tree out front. And for its color, which has been distracting me for months as I navigate nearby roads and bridges, and which seems like it must have been the color this house was meant to be, all those years ago.