If these walls could talk

It was a balmy Sunday morning. Sleeping in was a bad idea that day. The house was empty, I was left with all the air to myself. I love that feeling, when you wake up and you just know you are the only one home. The sound of empty. 

As I lay in bed catching up on all the articles I saved that week, I scrolled to my hearts content as the sun laid her rays all over the bed - I thought to myself - I could not possibly be the only one who feels this deeply, the walls of her home. They speak all the time, the edge of the first step on the stair case, that spot in the living room you love to stand in and watch - what do we watch? 

​I was looking for a home to photograph for my Real Estate portfolio, so I posted on facebook, looking for that special home. When I found it, the intention was to capture images for a mock sell sheet I was going to send to Agents all across Toronto. I found the home, or rather, the home found me.

J picked me up from my place and as we drove in the bright Sunday sun, our romanticism of homes met over a timmies coffee. So many ideas were being birthed before we even reached her home. 

We swooned over all the joys of life that we just don't talk about, day to day. We want more conversations that sound like this..."omg I had the most delicious bath with the sun on my bed".