The morning sky broke in broad, brilliant bands of rose and gold over the eastern peaks, illuminating a heavy layer of white frost that had overnight transformed the southern valley into a shimmering sea of glass. The crisp autumn air bit sharply at my face, cold and pure, carrying the clean scents of frozen pine, river stone, and cedar wood.
Overhead, the roof of the homestead stood completely enclosed. The hand-split cedar shingles, dark and frosted at the edges, formed a sleek, weather-tight shield across the thick oak rafters. Below, the solid granite foundation sat unyielding against the frozen ground, its smooth mortar joints completely unaffected by the overnight drop in temperature.
I stood in the center of the spacious main room, holding a iron lantern whose warm, amber glow ill
