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Quiet mornings give way to laughter on the porch and the smell of bread in the main house. Light shifts across the lake as guests wander trails or linger in the sauna, heels clicking on old wood floors.


Morning light cuts across hardwood floors and old rugs, the hush broken by a kettle whistling and low voices. Sheets smell fresh, countryside stillness hangs heavy. Coffee and muffins drift from the kitchen, firepit crackles out back.
