Home Among The Pines

Abodes

A house is made with walls and beams. 

A home is made with love and dreams. – Unknown

In my early twenties, I had a dream house. 

I wasn't conversant in architectural styles, but I felt certain that I'd like an old-fashioned house with clean lines and an A-style roof nestled among the agoho and various coniferous trees in the wooded pine forest of Baguio City.

The design I had in mind was probably close to a modest and cozy cottage. Or perhaps similar to a log home with wood siding, shingles, or even logs. 

Surely, it would have a large, open concept.

And a rustic interior. Maybe a loft for a study and a library.

The walls would be lined with traditional habi woven Benguet tapestry and on the floor, a buri palm intertwined mat.

I'd have plenty of outsized windows open to every view, unblinking. I would fling them open to the cool breeze perfumed with jasmine, taking in the nice view of the red flowering bottle brush tree and the violet jacaranda trees outside. I'd peek at dwarf cloud mice scurrying on mossy areas and on the ponderosa pine. And gawk at hanging parrots with their bright green body feathers and the brilliant scarlet-orange plumage on their head and tail.

At night, I would have my moon and my stars and a nice silhouette of the trees against the sky.

I said then, One day I’ll live in a place just like this.

It won't look perfect.

It won't look like a showroom.

It won't look like it belonged in a magazine.

Truth?

It will look better.

Because it will be made of love and dreams.