I generally scout for Design snapshots in New England's more temperate months than in bone-chilling January or February. Every once in a while, though, I snap something despite the cold because it simply begs to be captured.

This stoic New England gambrel at the crest of a brown hill, with a thick stroke of bordering hedge and a bare tree at its corner, called to me. Its first-floor shades drawn and its porch framing a quiet block of blue held my gaze. Its cloak of weathered-grey shingled walls and roof dotted with 8/12 and 12/12 windows, edged with moss-green trim, and accented by a tall, brick chimney nose greeted me plainly. Yes, this house speaks my language.

I grew up with a print of Andrew Wyeth's Christina's World behind the family room couch, which -- along with 19th century farmhouse it occupied and my mother's taste for sturdy local antiques -- must have trained me early in the hardy, resilient language of vernacular New England dwellings and their surrounds. I feel in their company as if I have found a dear friend or relative, someone with whom I can be completely at home.

by Katie Hutchison for House Enthusiast