A rustic park lodge in the Brown County hills, built from the timber and stone around it — which means it absorbs light rather than reflecting it.
A park inn on a chain of glacial kettle lakes in the far northeast corner of Indiana — deep, clear, cold water in wooded moraine country.
A venue in the Indiana dune country, where the sand is bright quartz, the lake faces north, and both sunrise and sunset can be over water.
A two-and-a-half-mile oval with a strip of original brick at the start line. The place is either the subject or it is nothing.
A grand resort built around mineral springs in the southern Indiana hills — designed to impress on arrival and to hold people indoors.
A nineteenth-century farmhouse inn set inland of the Maine coast, with no landmark, no view and nothing obvious to point a camera at.
An inn on a working Maine waterfront, where the background is full of boats, moorings, buildings and other people.
A resort on a peninsula at Boothbay Harbor, with water on more than one side — which is the whole advantage.
A nineteenth-century stone mansion above Penobscot Bay, built of the local granite and full of dark timber.
A woodland resort set back from the Maine shore, where the canopy is the whole venue and the sea is deliberately out of sight.