The drive in does most of the work. The light comes through the woods slowly, because there’s nothing out here to hurry it. By the time you arrive home, the day you just had is mostly behind you. Inside, the floors are warm. Radiant heat, edge to edge, so you’ll stop wearing shoes indoors by December. Above you,150 hand-peeled red pines hold up the roof. Someone forged the iron latches. Someone carved the back door. You?re living in a home where every surface was decided on by a person, and that turns out to feel like something. It changes on you four times a year. Spring comes in green and close. Summer is all shade and long evenings on the porch. October is the one people talk about. Then the snow settles over everything and the place turns into the postcard version of itself. Ten minutes from the city, but you feel worlds away in this handcrafted log home in the wooded hills of western Dane County. There isn’t another one.