It starts in the quiet.
Not the kind you notice right away—but the kind you settle into. The kind that meets you in the early morning, when the light begins to stretch across the land and the world hasn’t quite caught up yet. Out here, on 4.2 acres, the sunrise doesn’t feel like a backdrop. It feels like part of the rhythm. Something you return to, day after day, without thinking twice.
Step outside, and it all opens up.
More than 1,100+/- square feet of covered, wraparound decking extends around the home, holding space for slow mornings, long conversations, and the in-between moments that end up meaning the most. The doors behind you—twelve feet of glass—slide open and disappear, and for a moment, there’s no real line between inside and out. Just air, light, and the feeling that everything is connected.
Inside, the home carries a quiet sense of intention.
Hickory floors ground each step. A chiseled travertine entry welcomes you in with a sense of weight and permanence. Knotty alder trim frames the spaces in warmth, not for show, but for the way it feels to live within it. Nothing rushed. Nothing overdone. Just materials that settle in over time.
The kitchen is where the day gathers.
Not in a formal way—but in the way people naturally drift toward it. Granite surfaces scattered with ingredients, the low hum of conversation, something on the stove, something in the oven. A gas range with pot filler within reach, double ovens doing their work in the background. And as the light shifts, under-cabinet lighting softens the space, carrying it quietly into evening. It’s the kind of place where people stay a little longer than they meant to.
The home moves easily between connection and retreat.
With three bedrooms and three baths, there’s space for everyone to find their own rhythm. A bonus room becomes whatever the day calls for—movie nights, projects, quiet afternoons. An office holds the plans, the ideas, the work that happens behind the scenes. And a dedicated workout space becomes a place to reset, even if only for a moment.
At the end of the day, everything slows.
The primary suite is set apart, not just in layout, but in feeling. A place to close the door and let the day fall away. A soaking tub, a walk-in shower with dual heads, and a spacious closet with built-ins that bring a quiet sense of order to the everyday. It’s not about luxury for its own sake—it’s about ease. About having a space that gives something back to you.
Outside, the possibilities stretch further.
A three-car garage holds the day-to-day, while the shop becomes something more. Fully insulated, expansive, ready for projects, work, or the things you’ve been meaning to build. And beyond that, a second shop—over 1,700 square feet, with utilities already in place—waiting. Not defined yet. Just open. A space that can grow with you, shift with you, become what’s needed when the time comes.
And through it all, the setting remains.
Territorial views that change with the light. A glimpse of the mountains in the distance. The feeling of space—not just around you, but within your days. Room to move, to pause, to live without being crowded.
Because in the end, it’s not just the home you remember.
It’s the mornings that started a little slower. The evenings that lasted a little longer. The way everything—inside and out—just seemed to come together.
And the feeling…
that this was exactly where you were meant to be.
