
The hum at the center of the house: a sun-washed pool ringed in teak decking and native palms, with poolside dining by day and lantern-warm evenings.
The pool is the reason the house hums. It sits at the center of the courtyard the way a hearth sits at the center of an older kind of home: wrapped in teak decking laid like a yacht's, shaded at its edges by native palms, open to the Miami Beach sun through the middle of the day. By day the deck doubles as the maison's dining room: light plates and cold drinks are served poolside, unhurried, in place of the restaurant we never wanted. After dark the water stills and the courtyard turns to low, warm light, the hour the house keeps for two. It is an intimate pool by resort standards, and deliberately so; a house this small means you will often have the water entirely to yourself.
At the center of the courtyard, a few steps from every ground-floor room.


