borrowing from the landscape. Step through the vanity alcove and the ceiling opens to a rectangular skylight that washes the bath in diffused, shifting light, turning what most houses conceal into something almost exhibitionist in its calm. The same white oak millwork that lined the hallway continues here without apology, meeting honed stone and frameless glass as though a bathroom were simply another room deserving of architecture. Where the clerestory in the previous space drew your eye outward to the canopy, this skylight pulls the canopy inward, letting cloud-shadow and leaf-pattern drift across surfaces that most owners would hide behind a locked door. It is the kind of gesture that only makes sense on a lot this private, where the Jefferson-Oldham boundary gives you enough uninterrupted tree cover to treat a bath as a