Carmel-by-the-Sea, sparsely inhabited at that time and next to the wild, untamed mountains of Big Sur, was the homestead he needed for continued inspiration. Robinson Jeffers wrote mostly about nature. The end result was passionate, irregular, and rather heroic. He collected the stones from the beach below his house. Robinson decided to be the apprentice to the contractor of the house so that he could build the tower by himself. He chose the rugged, wind-battered but beautiful coastal land to settle with his wife Una and their two sons. This house and tower were built by a poet named Robinson Jeffers in the 1920’s.

My ghost you needn't look for it is probably Here, but a dark one, deep in the granite, not dancing on wind With the mad wings and the day moon.Nestled between the golf courses and swanky homes of Carmel, California, is a home that is both striking and strikingly out of place: a stone house reminiscent of an English Tudor cottage, with a two-story stone tower, almost cartoon-like because of the giant stones, standing alone in the center of the garden. Come in the morning you will see white gulls Weaving a dance over blue water, the wane of the moon Their dance-companion, a ghost walking By daylight, but wider and whiter than any bird in the world. You will know it by the wild sea-fragrance of wind Though the ocean may have climbed or retired a little You will know it by the valley inland that our sun and our moon were born from Before the poles changed and Orion in December Evenings was strung in the throat of the valley like a lamp-lighted bridge. But if you should look in your idleness after ten thousand years: It is the granite knoll on the granite And lava tongue in the midst of the bay, by the mouth of the Carmel River-valley, these four will remain In the change of names.

Look for foundations of sea-worn granite, my fingers had the art To make stone love stone, you will find some remnant.

If you should look for this place after a handful of lifetimes: Perhaps of my planted forest a few May stand yet, dark-leaved Australians or the coast cypress, haggard With storm-drift but fire and the axe are devils.

Who owns the tor house