The word “door” does not do this home entryway the justice it deserves. I suppose one could call it a “gate.” One clearly enters a courtyard upon passing through it. Yet, it does not strike me as a gate. In my own mind I have taken to thinking of it as a “portal,” a sometimes pretentious word in its usage. This entryway warrants the title.
It is august enough to serve as the portal to the Heaven of men’s imaginings. Heaven’s Gate. The entry to Hell is merely a door into a walk-up with a stoop from which one can hear the screams of little children playing inside while one waits for someone to answer the bell.