Like a fracture emerging from stone, the house reveals itself slowly, almost imperceptibly, from the base of the hill. A quiet ascent along a gravel path leads to a small bridge — crossing a stream that marks both boundary and beginning. As the water mirrors sky and foliage, so too do the glass surfaces absorb the surrounding landscape, blurring the line between built and grown. This is not a house that claims territory, but one that listens. Open and grounded, it rests in dialogue with the land, anchored in stone yet softened by layers of green.
Nature almost swallows it — but not entirely. A sharp line, a silent ridge, gently interrupts the horizon, marking its presence. Every space within is oriented towards the outside, tracing light, shadow, and silence — making the landscape part of the daily ritual.