Text by Jared Barton
Packing a car in late March in upstate New York carries a particular kind of quiet weight. The fields are still soggy and dormant, garden beds stripped bare, and the roads between places that already feel a little too far apart are just a little bit longer. Winter still holds on but not in any useful way. Instead, it lingers like something unfinished, pressing firmly against any will to stay and see it through. Each season has its own version of this transitional dread. These are the moments we are looking to escape.
Three Sisters Farm sits proudly on a scenic coastal road, as it has for almost 200 years. Old-growth trees offer shade in the warmer months and multicolored foliage in autumn.
Friendship, Maine, arrives with neither pomp nor circumstance. There is no dramatic reveal, only the gradual breadcrumb trail of a quiet coastal village. The roads narrow, the land opens, and suddenly, there is space again. Fields, water, rocky coasts, and open sky. In late March, winter still holds on in whispers. Patches of snow remain on shaded ground, but they no longer define the landscape. The coastal air has peppered its salty breath over the mounds to expedite the thaw. The sun sits higher now. Light lasts longer into the evening, helped along by daylight saving time, and the whole place feels as though it is slowly remembering how to expand again.
Belgian block paths lead from the driveway to the home’s back porch and screen room. An English drop leaf tuck-away table offers the perfect opportunity for a coffee spot, laptop station, or puzzle party. Hand-stenciled wall treatments bring a touch of modern whimsy to American primitive furnishings.
The house itself offers five unique bedrooms and multiple gathering spaces that allow both connection and privacy. Up the home’s original staircase, the primary suite offers a king bed, soft layered linens, and its own workspace that looks out over the property. A smaller adjoining room holds a crib and twin bed, creating a quiet corner for younger guests, not so far from supervision as to warrant trouble. Two additional bedrooms on the second floor share a lovely bathroom, outfitted with a deep clawfoot tub and the most perfectly bespoke built-ins, ledges, and finishes. On the main floor, a separate bedroom with a queen bed provides an easy option for those who prefer fewer stairs and a slower pace. While each space fully embraces the character of the farmhouse—its winding corridors, crooked floors, tight corners, and changing rooflines—it never falls short on the modern and cozy comforts one might expect at a luxury hotel or spa.
AT FIRST IMPRESSION, THE HOME IS NOT A SPECTACLE BUT A FAMILIAR FRIEND.
The kitchen spaces are designed for real living rather than show. There are two fully equipped kitchens, each with generous counter space, commercial-grade ovens, and everything needed for long meals shared with family or friends. Morning coffee becomes a ritual in itself; we opted for pour-over each morning, enjoyed on the screened porch as the world came alive. The dining room, outfitted with a vintage trestle table and an old French baker’s counter, comfortably holds a whole family or, in our case, a very hungry group of friends, making communal meals feel natural rather than arranged.
… FIVE UNIQUE BEDROOMS AND MULTIPLE GATHERING SPACES ALLOW BOTH CONNECTION AND PRIVACY.
Beyond cooking and sleeping, the home expands into a series of spaces that shift with mood and moment. There are two distinct living rooms, one centered around a gas fireplace, which became a cozy haven from the chilly evenings, the other outfitted with elevated French sensibilities. A shearling-upholstered sofa and a wingback you could simply sink into offered the comfortable work-from-home space we all needed for slow-paced morning emails.
A separate barn structure has been transformed into a flexible studio space, equipped for yoga, Pilates, and movement, with a Peloton bike available for more standardized exercise. While we opted for none of the above, the option was a nice thought.
A deep soaker tub provides the opportunity to sink into the bubbles and escape the real world. A queen bed set into a deep dormer window welcomes the morning with the most perfect New England sunshine. An informal nursery keeps little ones close by while still offering some privacy in the primary suite.
The property extends its sense of possibility outdoors. Eleven acres offer open fields for wandering, reading, or simply sitting still. A short walk leads to a tidal cove. Bikes are provided for both adults and children, encouraging slow exploration of the surrounding roads and the healing opportunities of the coastal air. Set just above the stone-lined paths of the yard, a wood-fired spa tub sits under an open sky, becoming something entirely different depending on season and temperature. In cold air, it turns into a kind of ritual, steam rising into the night.
What remains consistent is the feeling that nothing here is accidental. The farmhouse is not designed as an escape from life but as a different way to proceed. Slower. Less divided. More attentive to what is already present.
Three Sisters Farm brings all of this together. It is where meals stretch into conversation, where games appear and disappear without planning, where someone reads while another cooks and another simply watches the light shift across the room through old, wavy-glass windows. It holds entertainment, rest, and curiosity at once, without asking anyone to choose between any of them.
THE PROPERTY EXTENDS ITS SENSE OF POSSIBILITY OUTDOORS.
Leaving is always quieter than arriving. The car is packed again, but the return carries a different weight. Not heavier, not lighter, just simply altered. Something in the rhythm has shifted without announcement.
Three Sisters Farm does not ask to be remembered as extraordinary. It does something more subtle. It makes ordinary time feel intentional. It makes those moments between the noise into the memories we cherish.
























