Villa Sol is shaped as much by the land and light as by the people who care for it.

The home was already called Villa Sol when we found it. We chose to keep the name instantly — without the language to explain why, only the feeling that it was right.

Later, another layer revealed itself. Long before Casa Luna existed — while we were dreaming of one day finding a place in Mexico — Suzette told Marshall that if we ever did, she wanted to name it Casa Luna. The moon. A simple intention. Nothing more.

Years later, without planning it, the home we ultimately purchased in Mexico already carried that name.

And suddenly there it was: Sol and Luna. Sun and Moon. Two homes we did not name, yet somehow aligned with what we had quietly envisioned. Sometimes the meaning shows up first, and the understanding comes later.

In the kitchen, the counters are made of Labradorite — a stone that reveals its colours only when the light shifts. In certain moments it looks dark, almost understated; then the sun moves, light catches the surface, and suddenly blues, greens, and flashes of gold appear as if from nowhere.

Known for its connection to intuition and inner clarity, Labradorite became a metaphor for the evolution of this home — and for Suzette's own. As the space has shifted in design, purpose, and energy, so has she.

At first, Suzette thought she would replace the stone. Its darker tones weren't what she would naturally choose. But as she came to understand Labradorite — what it holds, what it reveals — its appearance mattered less than its purpose. Now she can't imagine the home without it.

The Labradorite didn't just decorate the space. It became a reminder that this home — like the stone itself — is meant to help people see more of who they are, and who they're becoming.

Our address — 1111-3 Sunshine Coast Highway — carried meaning the moment it arrived.

In numerology, 1111 is considered both an angel number and a manifestation gateway: a symbol of alignment, intuition, new pathways, and the moment when inner vision begins to take shape in the physical world. The number 3 represents creativity, expression, and the energy of bringing ideas into form.

When you add these numbers together — 1+1+1+1+3 = 7 — another layer reveals itself. The number 7 is associated with spiritual depth, inner wisdom, and sacred retreat: reflection, truth-seeking, and the quiet spaces where people reconnect with themselves.

We didn't choose these numbers. But they arrived as if offering their own quiet guidance — an invitation to pay attention, to trust the unfolding, and to build this place in alignment with something deeper.

A totem once stood on this land. When the previous owners moved, they took it with them — leaving a noticeable absence. Not just visually, but energetically. Marshall sensed it first: the land wanted that story to continue.

The totem that now stands at Villa Sol was restored by Darren Yelton, a Squamish Nation artist. At the top sits Thunderbird — a powerful, mythical being said to create the thunder we receive on Mother Earth. Beneath stands Grizzly Bear — the one who brings strength to all people when visited by Bear.

Together, they hold stories far older than the home itself, honouring the people who have lived, fished, gathered, and cared for this coastline long before we arrived.

Its presence here is not decorative. It is a gesture of respect — a quiet acknowledgement that the land carries a history far greater than our chapter of it.

The following spring, we held a small totem-raising ceremony to honour the piece and the land it stands on. Family and close friends gathered as the totem took its place — marking not just a moment of celebration, but of respect, continuity, and gratitude.

In the summer of 2025, we turned our attention to a small garden area near the front of the home — the first outdoor space we chose to shape intentionally. Until then, it had been overgrown with tangled, vine-like plants that never quite felt like they belonged.

With the help of our friend Ronalds — who has moved in and out of our lives for many years, often arriving at the exact moments when his hands and heart are needed — we began clearing away the old growth, pulling back years of vines and uncovering the rocks of the earth underneath.

As the space opened, so did the view — revealing a fuller, more expansive glimpse of the ocean from our barbecue area. What had once felt crowded and overgrown suddenly felt like it could breathe again.

One afternoon, Ronalds told us its name: "The Streams of Consciousness Garden." It felt true — a reflection of how ideas, emotions, and creativity move through this place: not always linear, often surprising, always flowing toward something larger.

In the spring of 2026, the rock garden evolved again — lavender, rosemary, echinacea, and creeping thyme woven through the stones. Plants chosen not just for beauty, but for the way they support ease, gathering, and rest.