The site sits on a granite slope above a small lagoon, where the desert scrub gives way to views of the Sea of Cortez. Cardón cacti and elephant trees dot the hillside. The boulders, some the size of small cars, were too good to move.
The house was organized around these existing conditions rather than against them. Concrete stairs thread between the rocks, connecting the entry to the main living platform above. The building itself is a series of white volumes — one grounded, one lifted — that frame the landscape without competing with it. A vertical screen of fins runs along the western edge, filtering the afternoon sun and creating shifting patterns of light across the interior floors.
The main living spaces open fully to a pool deck oriented toward the water. A deep overhang and the lifted bedroom volume above provide shade for outdoor living during the hottest hours. At night the house glows against the hillside, the fins reading as a quiet rhythm against the desert sky.
What we were after was a house that felt inevitable to its site — something that looked like it had always been there, or at least like it should be.
