AT HOME WITH KERRI-LEE: Windows Into Winter: What Our Homes Say About Us

AT HOME WITH KERRI-LEE

Windows Into Winter: What Our Homes Say About Us

By Kerri-Lee Mayland

When the world grows quiet, our homes begin to speak.

There’s something about winter evenings that stir our curiosity. When the sun slips away early and the air turns crisp, our eyes are drawn to the soft glow spilling from the windows of homes we pass. Maybe you’ve caught yourself glancing through one—just for a moment—wondering what life looks like on the other side of that glass. Why are we so fascinated by how others decorate their spaces and live within them?

The Lake at Dusk

Each year before my father-in-law, Don Mayland—the longtime Lake Keeper of Lake Wonoscopomuc—officially calls “ice in” for the season, my husband and I take one last kayak around the shoreline. We paddle close to the banks, where cottages and stately homes sit tucked into the landscape, their windows blinking like lanterns against the dusk. I can’t help but imagine the lives unfolding inside: family dinners, music playing, dogs circling underfoot. Who lives there? What stories do those walls hold? Even the paint on the window trim feels like a clue. Homes, after all, are silent storytellers. And in winter, when everything else grows still, we listen more closely.

When Our Homes Talk Back

That same curiosity follows us indoors. I once had a client laugh while choosing window treatments and say, “Add something above the window only—you can’t take the blinds away!” Their neighbors, it turned out, already knew exactly which renovations they’d made simply from walking by before the blinds were drawn. It reminded me that our homes are always communicating—outward as much as inward—whether we mean for them to or not.

Maybe that’s why, when the snow falls and the fire is on, so many of us find ourselves watching HGTV. We cozy up and follow couples in Chicago or Texas as they hunt for “the one,” or hold our breath as renovations spiral and somehow meet the reveal deadline. In the darker months, when we’re tucked inside our own spaces, the way others live becomes entertainment, inspiration and, sometimes, a mirror.

What is Your Home Saying About You?

When friends step inside, or when neighbors pass by your window at night, does your space reflect the story you want it to tell? Winter, with its slower pace and longer nights, offers the perfect time to listen and edit that story to add warmth, character and meaning.

Start where every story begins: at the entryway. A home’s front door is its handshake. In these cold months, small gestures—lanterns glowing by the steps, a wreath of pine and berries, maybe an old sled or a pair of skates leaned just so—set the tone long before anyone crosses the threshold.

From there, consider what someone might glimpse through your windows. A softly lit lamp, a stack of books or a vase of winter branches creates a quiet vignette that feels personal and real—not staged, but inviting.

Inside, layer in your history. A framed photo, a hand-stitched quilt or your child’s painting proudly hung above the mantel are the details that make a house unmistakably yours. 

Color tells your story, too. Try hues that warm and soothe: amber, sage, navy or deep burgundy. And don’t underestimate the power of light: lamps on dimmers, sconces that cast a soft glow or candles flickering in the window. Light is emotional. It shapes how we gather, how we rest and how we feel.

Finally, let comfort lead the way. A basket of chunky throws by the sofa, a tea tray ready for wind-down time or a reading nook tucked beneath a window says you’re home now. These details are more than decoration; they’re the rhythm of your life, quietly reflected back.

The Final Glimpse

So, the next time you take an after-dinner walk and glance into a neighbor’s glowing window—or paddle past a lakeside home not yet iced in—remember that your own home is speaking, too. In these dark, hushed months, our houses tell our stories. And if you’d rather keep yours a mystery, well, just be sure to pull those window coverings before dusk.