C

E

F

L

T

M

A

LOSE YOUR

YES AND

There is a specific quality to the light, as it refracts on the sand

early in the day, before human footsteps imprint themselves onto

the beach. Come to stand at the water’s edge, close your eyes and fill

your lungs with the fresh morning air; it’s dawn, and the only sounds

you can hear are the rustling of long weeds, dry wheat on its stems,

gently swaying – in the distance, perhaps, a lone seagull calling.

Stand in the middle of this space and feel the sea breeze, softly blowing

through the doors of our imaginary beach house, which are left ajar to

invite in the new. These rooms are quietly tropical: summer curls at the

ankles of each woven chair, ruffling up the leaves of the palm trees. It is

a space gently indented with the markings of nature, bearing the signs

of early summer, of a busy living pace that is finally relenting. There is

plenty of time to rest here, draped across an ochre cushion, or on the

white sandbanks of the sofa, or stretched out on the wide bed, limbs

tender with sea salt, in the growing heat of the day.

ILL YOUR

UNGS WITH

HE FRESH

ORNING

IR

u

r

b

a

n

l

i

v

i

n

g

s

p

a

c

e

s