It begins lightly, almost playfully - green, citrusy, fresh. At first, I thought of Italy: lemon trees, clear air, early light.
But with each step, it grew quieter. The trees multiplied. And then it stands there, in the middle of a sunny clearing:
A house made of light, untreated wood. Japanese architecture in its purest form - every beam intentionally placed, every play of light a part of the plan.
It smells of wood - but not chopped, rather precisely sawn. Smooth, dry, well thought out.
And it is almost impossible to say whether I am still outside - or already inside.