are rented to longtime summer tenants, are
between 700 and 800 square feet. Built into
the slope, they are little marvels of construction and design, what fairy houses assembled
of sticks and stones and moss and leaves in the
forest aspire to become.
The arcs of the standing-seam metal
roofs soften the profile of the cabins, and the
dark patina reflects the environment, picking
up the deep gray of the tall pines, the silver of
the lake, and the glow of a leaden sky.
“We tried peaked, sloped, and flat roofs,”
says Holwell, “but the barrel roof somehow
worked. It really grows out of everything else.”
“One of the things I love about the place
is the sound,” says the owner. “I can leave the
windows open to hear the waves on the shore,
the loons on the lake, and the coyotes in the
woods.” She also likes the way the roof serves
as an umbrella, the deep overhangs protect-
ing the interiors from the rain and the hot sun.
The original cabins each had small
screened porches where most of the summer
life was lived. A better design, reasoned Holwell, would have the whole structure something of an outdoor living space. To facilitate
that notion, she had rollaway doors custom
made so that one corner of the living spaces
can be completely opened to the outdoors.
Inside, the cabins have a clean, contemporary look. To avoid mildew, no sheetrock
was used. Instead, the walls were finished with
American Clay, a natural clay plaster in which
the color, in this case a pale, creamy white, is
embedded. Furnishings and decor are minimal and natural — chairs and sofas were
upholstered in neutral tones, and art consists
of a woodcarving of a small bear and four deer
skulls with antlers.
The floors in the owner’s cabin are stone,