Just stepped out from the back patio. The light was soft, filtered through trees along the fence. I could hear the awning quietly folding in behind me. The grass was cool and still damp in places. There’s a calm out here. Just enough mountain showing through the branches to remind you where you are.

Back inside, the dining room still held the warmth from earlier. Wood floors underfoot, vaulted ceiling above, light slipping in through the shutters. Everything felt steady and quiet.

The kitchen’s just off to the side. Counters smooth and cool. The tile under my shoes has a subtle texture, enough to feel it but not think about it. Cabinets open with a soft pull. I rinsed a glass in the sink—clean water, no sound except the stream hitting porcelain. There’s a second sink by the prep area. I could still smell the lemon soap.

From the kitchen, the house opens up. The family room’s vaulted, quiet, with bookshelves built into the wall. The fireplace connects to the den, and the last of the morning heat still clung to the tile around it. The den catches light from three directions. It’s the kind of space you find yourself pausing in without meaning to.

The sitting room’s closer to the front. It’s formal but not stiff. French doors, six tall windows, and carpet framed in wood. You notice the sound softens when you step in. The light’s always a little different in here.

The bedrooms sit off to the side, tucked away. One has carpet that still smells faintly new, with a bath that warms underfoot and feels balanced, like it was made for routine. The other has wood floors, a wide closet, and a bathroom that opens directly into the room. Both are quiet, evenly lit, and closed off just enough.

There’s a hallway bathroom between the living space and the rooms. Everything in it feels clean-lined, solid, nothing loose or creaky. The laundry room’s nearby—spacious, bright, with enough room to move. Cabinets still carry a faint mix of detergent and wood oil.

The basement is down a carpeted stairway. One large bedroom and a full bath. Quiet, dry, and still. It feels like a guest might’ve just left.

The whole house carries a kind of rhythm. Light in the right places.