An Island in Maine, Four Sisters, Four Houses

It’s a morning in high summer. Standing in the kitchen of my house in Southwest Harbor, Me., I fill a travel mug with coffee, take the leash off its peg, and whistle for my dog. Lola bounds in, tail wagging. She knows where we’re going: to my sister Cynthia’s house, a mile away. We meander up a quiet street to a dirt road lined with pine trees and make our way across a narrow granite bridge over a cove, past a small swimming club with a saltwater pool, and up the road to Cynthia’s wide front porch. My coffee is still warm when we arrive.

It’s a beautiful story, with many gorgeous photos. My wife’s brothers and sisters are all in SF. But unless you are worth 10M or more you can never own beautiful houses like theirs in SF… :frowning: